Miraculous Dragons
by Scribblefoxx
Summary: Dark spirits, scheming supervillains, secret identities... all just daily occurrences in the life of Hiccup Haddock. When the city of Berk needs protecting, he becomes the masked hero Night Fury, fighting along side his partner Deadly Nadder. All the other times, he's just Hiccup - and keeping his secret identity is a lot harder than you might think. [miraculous ladybug AU]
1. Prologue

The man looked over the city, so quiet and peaceful in the night.

It would not remain peaceful for long.

Stepping away from the window, he crossed the room and opened the box sitting on the table. The hinges gave a protesting squeak as he reached in to retrieve the object inside, a dusty pendant. It glowed faintly blue when he slipped it silently over his head.

When he spoke, his voice was powerful and commanding. "Bewilderbeast, awaken."

The pendant glowered brighter, a short spike of light, and then something small and wispy darted out, forming into a small floating creature. As soon as it was fully aware of its surroundings, it gave a squeak of fear and lowered in the air, staring at the man with wide eyes.

"The time has come," the man growled. "Transform me."

Bewilderbeast hesitated. "But, Drago –" it began, voice timid and fearful.

"Transform me!" the man insisted, taking a step forward and staring at the terrified little creature. Against its will, the Bewilderbeast was pulled back into the pendant with a shriek and a swirl of light. The pendant's glow spread until it covered the man's whole body, and when the light faded, there was something different and something awful about him. The only thing visible were his eyes, glowing bright blue in the darkness.

He stretched out his arm, palm upturned; within a moment something appeared there, something dark and shifting – the silhouette of a creature, small but wild. The man lifted his arm and the creature flapped into the air on silent wings, circling a few times before phasing through the window and vanishing into the night.

"Now," the man said, his voice a deep growl, "the war begins anew."

* * *

Somewhere nearby, another figure was lurking in the darkness, searching intently for something she hoped she wouldn't find.

She had only caught a glimpse of something, a something that was horribly familiar, and now she perched on a dark rooftop, leaning on her staff and staring into the night. For several long moments, there was nothing at all, until – there! – a small shadow, silhouetted by the moon and the stars. It was nothing more than a speck, but to the figure, it was unmistakable.

"Drago's back," she whispered, with horror.

Skillfully and silently, she slid down the rooftop and dropped into the cold alleyway below; with a glance behind her to make sure she was not followed, she ducked into a half-hidden doorway and crept down the flight of cold stone steps until she had reached the small, quiet sanctuary at the bottom. Without a moment of hesitation she reached up and pulled a box down off one of the shelves, a box that was dusty and squeaked when she opened it, not unlike the man's. From out of it she pulled two small items, one a soft blue and the other black as pitch.

Another small creature emerged from somewhere behind the figure, floating towards her and staring at the two items with apprehension. "It's happened again?" he asked, voice deep but quiet. "Is it time?"

The woman sighed. "I'm afraid so, Cloudjumper," she said, staring down at the two items in her hands again before lifting her gaze to look out the window at the top of the wall, where she could just barely make out the starry night sky. She sighed once more, but when she spoke, her voice was calm and steely.

"The Deadly Nadder and the Night Fury are going to be needed once more."

* * *

 **yo I haven't written fanfic in... a LONG time but this idea will not leave me alone so I'm finally getting around to fully writing it out and I guess I'll upload it here. I know this first part's really short but I just wanted to get it started**

 **as you can probably tell this has the characters of httyd but the plot/premise of miraculous ladybug so it's kinda a superhero/modern au as well?**

 **anyway, thanks for reading, and enjoy! I have lots of this written out ahead of time so I'll be able to update regularly - probably every three days or so?**


	2. High School Superhero

For what it's worth, Hiccup _tried_ to pay attention. He really did.

But his eyes were tired and his mind was wandering, and the pencil in his hand was tracing lazy doodles in the margins of his notebook. He was sure the subject was very interesting... _whatever_ it was... but Mr. Gobber's voice had faded into nothing but background noise. That was, until –

"Hickory, would you care to answer the question?"

Hiccup blinked, jerking his head back up and suddenly coming back into focus. Mr. Gobber was staring at him, and a quick glance around told him that most of his classmates were as well. "Uh – sorry," he faltered, "what was the question again?"

There were snickers from several of the kids around them, but Hiccup pointedly refused to look at them and instead kept his eyes at the front of the classroom, at his teacher Mr. Gobber and the chalkboard that proclaimed the class Hiccup was daydreaming his way through was, in fact, mathematics. He pushed up his glasses and tried to read the notes written on the rest of the board.

He was saved by having to struggle for an answer by the sound of a crash outside; immediately, every gaze turned to the window. Everything appeared normal – the sky was cloudy and a light snow was falling, not at all uncommon for a March day in the little town of Berk. Only a moment later, however, there were the sounds of muffled shouting and a figure flew into the air, speeding through the sky and then dashing past the window. Chairs were thrown to the side and desks scraped against the tile floor as almost the entire class rushed to the window to get a better view of what was going on.

"Oh, no," muttered Mr. Gobber under his breath, "here we go again."

Hiccup craned his neck to peer over the heads of his classmates. He could just barely see the figure now floating in the air some distance away, but it was enough to tell him that he had work to do. Hurriedly, he turned away from the others and darted out of the classroom, muttering some half-baked excuse for his absence as he did so; nobody even seemed to be listening, so it didn't matter anyway. As he turned down the hallway, he nearly crashed into one of his classmates, one who was also leaving and the only one who had not jumped up to look out the window.

"H-hey, Astrid," Hiccup managed to get out, ducking out of her way. "I was just – heading outside to see if anyone needed help, you know –"

"Yeah, good idea, I was too," she responded, barely glancing at him before hurrying down the hallway in the direction of the main doors.

"So, uh, I'll see you later then, I guess?" he called, but she was already gone. Hiccup forced himself to focus on the task at hand instead of thinking about her, and so he set off down the hallway in the opposite direction, heading towards the back door. He limped slightly as he went along, the result of an old injury – a car accident three years ago had left him with gleaming metal prosthetic instead of a left leg – but he was still able to make it down the stairs and through the hallways fairly quickly.

Just before he left the school, he glanced around to make sure the coast was clear and then ducked into an empty broom closet. He swung his backpack off his back and set it down on the ground beside him, unzipping it. A small floating creature darted out of it, one with black scales and leathery wings and bright green eyes. "Hey, Toothless," Hiccup greeted hurriedly, a bit frazzled, "we've got a situation."

"I could hear," Toothless responded, a bit playfully. "Ready?"

Hiccup nodded and took a deep breath before saying, quietly but firmly, "Toothless, transform me!"

He held out his hand, where his black wristwatch began to glow green. Toothless dove into it, becoming a blur of light and then nothing at all. The glow spread from the watch up Hiccup's arm until it covered his entire body; his shirt and sweater vest faded into a dark leather suit, and his glasses were replaced with a mask over his eyes. The whole thing took only a moment before the light faded and he was transformed.

He just barely caught sight of himself in an old discarded mirror leaning against the closet wall – longer hair, black dragon ears atop his head, glowing green eyes narrowed into slits like a cat. Two feet – or so it appeared. The transformation created a new prosthetic that looked as realistic as flesh and blood, but was as false as ever. It didn't matter anyway.

"The Night Fury's back in action," he said to himself with a grin.

He opened the closet door slowly at first to check that there was nobody around, and then quicker once he confirmed the hallways were empty. He tossed his backpack to the floor some distance away; his classmates would likely think he dropped it when he ran outside to help, as he said he would – which wasn't a lie, just an understatement.

Help the town? He was going to _save_ it. Just like he did every day.


	3. A Day in the Life

Somewhere not so far away, there was somebody else already on the job. She was running down one of the worn streets, her blonde braided hair flying out behind her as she searched for the source of the destruction.

She could tell she was hot on its trail by the large chunks of what appeared to be crystallized amber on the streets, as well as the sides of buildings and cars. There were even some people and animals caught in the rock, trapped like flies in a spider's web, but none were entirely encased and thus none were in danger of suffocating. She didn't attempt to break them out because she knew they would all be set free as soon as she defeated whatever had caused this.

Well, as soon as _they_ defeated it. She couldn't do it alone.

As if her thoughts had summoned him, a second person dropped down from one of the rooftops, landing gracefully on the road beside her and then instantly matching her stride, falling in line beside her. "Hey, Nadder," greeted the Night Fury, her partner. "What do we have today?"

"Not sure yet," Nadder responded, still running. "I haven't seen it yet. All I know is that it flies and it shoots some sort of amber stuff that hardens instantly. A few people have been trapped in it, but no injuries. That I've seen, anyway."

He nodded. "I saw the amber but I haven't spotted the dragonized one yet either."

The two teenagers ran along the trail of amber and destruction around the corner and down a side street – and they both stopped dead in their tracks.

There it was.

Hovering in the air on swiftly beating wings, the dragonized villain stared down at them. She was clothed in scaly armor, a pale orange with splashes of blue and red. Nadder knew she wasn't really a dragon, or a wild creature at all – she was likely an innocent civilian, caught up in and now controlled by a dark spirit – but with curled horns sprouting from her head and leathery wings from her back, she seemed more dragonesque than most.

Her face was covered in a dark mask typical of her type, but her still-visible eyes were bright yellow, almost glowing. She was singing, softly, barely even moving her lips; Nadder could not make out the words, but it was beautiful. For a moment, she could only stare at the creature, at her beautiful wings and her bright eyes – too bright. Hypnotically bright. Nadder couldn't tear her gaze away.

The dragonized one raised her staff, twirled it around and then pointed it directly at the two of them. Nadder broke out of its spell just in time to leap to safety as a clump of molten amber hit the pavement directly between her and Night Fury – who had also leapt aside – before hardening into rock the moment it touched the ground.

"The Deadly Nadder," the stranger hissed, still twirling her staff around, "and the Night Fury. Just the two I was hoping to meet." She shot another amber bust at Night, but he dodged easily.

"Who are you?" he shouted up at her.

A wicked grin came over the dragonized one's face. "I," she announced, beating her wings to lift up even higher, "am the Death Song. Fear me!" She gripped her staff tightly and fired at the ground again, the amber spreading over the pavement but not touching the two, who had once again leapt aside.

"Don't," panted Night, "look her in the eyes."

"Yeah, I figured that out," Nadder responded, keeping her gaze instead on the dragonized one's staff. She was starting to sing again, ever so quietly. "Any idea what her item is?"

He shook his head. "Not yet."

"Surrender your miraculouses," the Death Song hissed, "or else I'll have to take them by force." She sounded like a cartoon supervillain, over-the-top and cheesy, which made it hard for Nadder to take her seriously – although that staff, she knew, could do significant damage.

"Yeah," Nadder said, "I'm thinking _no._ "

The Death Song snarled, a deep and animalistic sound. Without another word, she turned and flew off, not in a retreat but aiming to cause more damage to the town and its inhabitants.

Nadder and Night took off after her, sprinting along the streets, which were thankfully deserted. The civilians must be sheltering inside, Nadder thought, which made things much easier for them. Up ahead, the Death Song was rapidly getting ahead of them – as fast as the two of them were, the dragonized one could fly, which was a distinct advantage.

"You know," Night panted as they ran, "this is kinda unfair. We're supposed to be dragons, right? That's our theme?"

"I'd guess so, yeah."

"So why don't we have wings?" He looked up at the Death Song, getting further and further from them. "We could be much more efficient. I mean, we've got tails as part of our suits – they're just decorative I guess because they don't do anything but add to the whole 'dragon superhero' thing we have going on – so would it really be too much more to have wings as a part of the suit as well? I mean -"

"Night, can you please just focus on the task at hand?" Nadder asked, squinting up into the sky. The Death Song was still speeding along, but she didn't seem to be getting any higher up, so it wasn't hard to follow along after her.

"I'm just saying it doesn't make any sense."

"We're superheroes, Night," Nadder shot back. "A lot of things we do don't make any sense." She began looking around at the buildings next to them, trying to come up with a plan. Maybe they could climb up to the rooftops and try to bring down Death Song from there? They still wouldn't be high enough to reach her. She squinted up into the sky again, and found with surprise that the Death Song was diving back towards the ground, straight towards them.

She touched down with a _thud_ just behind them, and the two teenagers spun around to face her. "Would you care to give me your miraculouses _now?_ " she purred, her voice sickly sweet. Apparently, she had realized the harsh and commanding tone wasn't working well for her. "Come on, hand them over like good little children." She began humming again, something tuneless but beautiful, and her eyes were still glowing horribly bright - but Nadder's gaze had fallen on something else. Something small hanging around the Death Song's neck, something glowing with dark energy.

"Night," she hissed under her breath, "her locket."

She saw his gaze pick up – he had been staring at the ground to avoid the Death Song's eyes – and focus on the locket. He nodded almost imperceptibly and put one hand behind his back, counting down on his fingers.

 _Three... two... one..._

At zero, Night and Nadder both lunged at the Death Song. Nadder tackled her to the ground while Night reached for the necklace. He just managed to brush it with his fingertips before the Death Song kicked him backwards, using her staff to launch another shot of amber after him. Nadder shoved the staff out of the way so that the shot was thrown off, just splattering against Night's tail, which he was able to rip free with ease.

The Death Song squirmed free of Nadder's grip and rose up into the air furiously, twirling her staff for another blast, when Night's shout came from somewhere behind them.

"Toothless, _plasma blast_!"

Nadder saw the familiar ball of blue-white fire blast from her partner's hands and hit the Death Song's wing, knocking her back down to the ground and sending her staff falling out of her hands and skittering against the pavement. Nadder reacted immediately, sensing the opportunity.

"Stormfly, _spine shot_!" she commanded, pulling her arm close to her; when she pushed it back out again, several long spikes materialized in her hand and flung out towards the Death Song, catching the edges of her clothing and pinning her to the side of the building behind her. She tried furiously to free herself, struggling and shrieking, but she was held fast.

It was over.

Night pulled off her locket and tossed it to Nadder, who crushed it effortlessly underfoot. Something fluttered dizzily out of it, the small dark silhouette of a winged, horned creature. Nadder reached up and caught it, cupping it between her palms, and when she opened them again, the creature had changed. All the darkness had left it, so now it appeared a brilliant white. It fluttered off into the daytime and out of sight.

Behind them, the Death Song's mask and wings faded away, the scaled armor morphing back into a t-shirt and jeans, and within only a moment the fearsome and mighty Death Song had once again become an ordinary civilian, a young woman. "What... happened?" she managed dizzily, leaning against the brick building behind her and sliding down to sit on the ground. Nadder's face broke into a grin.

She turned back around to look at Night, who was inspecting his suit's tail with a pouty frown. "One of the fin-things tore off," he noted, sounding disappointed. "It ripped off when I pulled it out of the amber. It doesn't look as cool now."

Nadder peered at it. "It looks fine," she said dismissively; she glanced down at the young woman they had freed and then back to Night. "Nice job today."

He smiled back at her. "Well, not bad yourself."

Nadder would have said more, but a sharp beep interrupted them, coming from the charm bracelet around her right wrist. Her miraculous. "Four minutes," she reported. "I have to go."

Night nodded. "See you later," he said, grinning at her before turning away and running back in the direction they had come from.

She stood there for a moment more, watching him go and helping the stunned former-dragonized civilian to her feet. It wasn't until her bracelet beeped again, indicating that she now had three minutes until she untransformed, that she started off down the street. She picked up her pace to a hurry, looking for a quiet sheltered spot. It took a few minutes, but she managed to find a dark, empty alley just as her bracelet beeped for the fifth and final time.

A familiar feeling swept over her, from her toes up to her head and then down her arm as the Deadly Nadder's suit was replaced with the worn jeans and dark jacket of Astrid Hofferson.

From the charm on her bracelet came a spirit, blue and yellow, who came to rest on her shoulder. "Good work today," Stormfly noted, with a yawn. "Now, let's go home. I'm _starving._ "

Astrid smiled at her. "All right," she agreed, holding out the side of her jacket for Stormfly to nestle in one of the hidden pockets. After checking that there was still nobody around, Astrid left the alley and set off towards home.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later Astrid was in her bedroom, scrolling aimlessly through her phone. On the nightstand next to her, Stormfly was digging into a plate of leftover fried chicken.

For several minutes, it was quiet, and then Astrid sighed. "The attacks are coming more often," she said, putting down her phone and staring at the ceiling. "They never do much damage, but they're definitely more often. What is Drago up to?"

Stormfly finished the last bite of chicken and then floated over to Astrid, resting on her knee. "I don't know," she said honestly, "but I know that no matter what he sends, who he attacks with, you and Night Fury will be able to handle it. It's been a long time since Toothless and I have aided heroes like you two."

Astrid smiled, although perhaps it was a bit fainter than she had intended. "We'll do our best," she promised, hoping that her best would be good enough.


	4. Websites and Wonderings

Hiccup arrived at school surprisingly early the next morning. He slung his backpack over the side of his chair and plopped down into the seat in the same desk he always sat at.

"Hey, Finn," he greeted the kid sitting next to him, his best friend.

Finn's face split into a grin. "Hiccup! I've _got_ to show you my latest project – it's finally finished." He turned his open laptop around to show the screen to Hiccup, who leaned forward and adjusted his glasses.

 _The Blog of Dragons_ , read the header of the webpage. Right next to it, Hiccup realized with a start, was a picture of him. Well, Night Fury, that is – with the Deadly Nadder standing beside him, both looking determined and heroic. He was pretty sure the photo was edited.

"I've been studying the Deadly Nadder and the Night Fury," Finn explained, hands fidgety with excitement and his blue eyes wide. "I put all my notes together and uploaded them to a blog so that I could keep track of it all, and to let others see the info too. And I've been updating it with the latest info and videos – I got some really great footage of the Death Song fight yesterday through the classroom window, you should have seen! Where did you go yesterday, anyway?"

"Oh, I just ran outside to get a better look at the fighting," Hiccup said evasively, giving a shrug that he hoped looked casual. "I mostly stayed inside though – it looked like Deadly Nadder and Night Fury had it under control."

"They sure did!" Finn clicked on the top link of his blog, opening up a video. Once it loaded, Hiccup was presented with a shaky, somewhat blurry video zoomed in on two figures sprinting down the street – one dressed in all black and the other in blue and yellow. "Look how heroic they look, even when they're not fighting! They're incredible!"

" _Nerd!"_ yelled their classmate Scott from somewhere behind them. Hiccup and Finn both ignored him.

"And look," Finn continued, "I compiled all the information I could find on them into a profile page for each of them, so maybe if we learn enough about them we could figure out their identities! I mean, how cool would it be if we knew them in real life? Friends with a superhero, could you imagine?" Finn looked delighted. "Maybe they even go to our school!"

Hiccup gave a nervous laugh. "Ha, yeah, that'd be cool," he said, hoping his expression didn't give away his panic.

"So here's Nadder's page," Finn went on, showing the screen to Hiccup again. A photo of Nadder was there, a mid-action shot with the background edited out, with text next to her. _Quick and light on her feet,_ Hiccup read. _Shoots spines from her arms. Athletic and powerful. Do not mess with her._

 _That all seems pretty accurate,_ thought Hiccup.

"And here's Night Fury's." Finn clicked on a different link, and even though Hiccup knew what to expect, it was still a bit unnerving to see photos of himself staring back at him. He avoided meeting Finn's gaze, afraid that him seeing Hiccup and Night Fury at the same time would clue him in. It helped that the transformation make him look different – older, he thought, looking at Night Fury's longer hair in the photo. To distract himself, he leaned forward again to read what Finn had written next to Night Fury.

 _Extremely fierce, extremely dangerous,_ said the webpage. _Fires powerful plasma explosions. Never engage in a fight with him. Nobody has ever met him and lived to tell the tale._

"Finn," Hiccup started, a bit cautiously, "I'm... I'm not sure Night Fury has ever actually _killed_ anyone."

"Oh yeah, I know," came Finn's dismissive response. "I just thought this sounded a lot cooler. There really is a lot of good information here, though – like, have you noticed that Night Fury limps slightly?"

Hiccup blinked, startled. "Does he?"

"Yep, he favors his left leg sometimes. Not when he's fighting or running though – it's really only visible when he's walking," said Finn. "Maybe an old injury?" Hiccup nodded with feigned interest, trying as hard as he could not to fidget with his prosthetic. "How long have these guys been around anyway – were they superheroes before they came to Berk? Are they human at all?" Finn clasped his hands together with excitement. "There's so much to discover!"

Hiccup gave a small hum in response, unsure of how else to reply. It was an impressive amount of research, he noted, aside from the obvious inaccuracies. And Finn was clever – not to mention he saw Hiccup every single day at school. If he was putting this much effort into it, how much longer would it be until he figured it out?

Finn went on talking, but Hiccup had tuned out, lost in his thoughts. He wasn't keeping his identity to exclude anyone, he argued to himself. It was to keep them all safe. Finn was great, but Hiccup knew he was the _worst_ secret-keeper he had ever met. If Finn found out who Night Fury was, the whole school – and then the whole town – would know within the day. And if the whole town knew, then soon Drago would too; would he try to use Hiccup's friends against him? His family? The thought was horrifying. He knew it had to be a secret.

But sooner or later, someone would find out. He had had too many close calls already – how much longer could he keep the secret? He was afraid to know the answer.

"...I mean, I doubt they go to our school," Finn was saying, when Hiccup started paying attention again. "It's hard to say for sure because of the masks, but I'd guess they're each around nineteen or twenty – assuming they're human or they age like humans. Or I suppose they could be eighteen, which would make them seniors so feasibly they _could_ go to our school – I think I'd recognize them though, wouldn't you?"

"Mm-hmm," Hiccup agreed, while thinking _no, you really wouldn't._

He looked up as the sounds of scuffling came from the classroom door – two of his classmates were attempting to enter the room at the same time, bickering and shoving each other. He was unsurprised to see that it was Rachel and Thomas Thorston, or "Rough and Tough" as they were too often called. They were both tall and thin, with long tangled blonde hair, and it was often difficult to tell which was which.

"Out of my way, dummy," snapped Rough.

"You're in _my_ way," Tough shot back, pushing her aside. "It was my way first. I own this way."

"That doesn't even make any sense."

" _You_ don't even make any sense!"

"Shut _up_ ," moaned Scott from his usual desk a few rows behind Hiccup and Finn; Hiccup glanced back to see that Scott had his head in his hands. Of course, the twins immediately decided to sit next to him, one on either side, which only proceeded in annoying him further. By the looks on their faces, they were enjoying this immensely.

"So anyway," Finn went on, either oblivious to or just completely ignoring Rough and Tough, "what do you think? I've been working on this for a while and I think it's a great step towards learning who they are!"

Hiccup shrugged. "I don't know," he said hesitantly, "won't it be ruined if you find out who they are? I mean, right now they're so mysterious and secret because they just show up for the danger and disappear when its safe again. I don't think they'd be as cool if you found out they were just regular people, right?"

Finn frowned slightly. "I guess," he started hesitantly, and then with excitement once again he finished, "but I'm going to keep gathering info anyway!"

Hiccup sighed softly.

This secret-superhero-thing was a lot harder than he had thought it was going to be.


	5. Double Trouble

All Astrid really wanted was just to have _one_ day where she didn't have to fight off evil.

That is, she was happy to defend the town, to protect the people, but sometimes being a superhero was exhausting. It hadn't even been a day since the Death Song incident, and yet here she was, perched on a rooftop just past four in the afternoon in full Deadly Nadder gear, staring down at the latest of Drago's minions.

This time, however, she knew the one who was dragonized.

"You're no match for me," came the mocking, sing-song voice of Rough – Rachel, that is. Or the Zippleback, as she was now calling herself. "You know you aren't. Hand over the miraculouses and we don't even have to fight – _although_..." She rubbed her hands together, grinning. "I do love a good fight."

"You kidding?" Night laughed. He was standing beside her on the rooftop, the wind ruffling his brown hair. "We'll take you down, just like we take down every other weirdo that Drago sends. Give it up. Besides," he added, with an air of smugness, "it's two against one."

Rough laughed. "I wouldn't be so sure of that," she warned, and then a second figure dropped down from one of the other rooftops nearby. Nadder recognized the long blonde hair and the daring grin of Tough, Rough's brother, dressed exactly like she was – dark mask across yellow eyes, green scaled armor, long spikes along the spine. Thankfully, neither of them had wings this time.

" _Two_ of them?" Night looked affronted. "How is that fair?"

"Au contraire, my fine fellow," said Tough, raising his index finger like a fancy noble, "it's fairer than ever." He grinned again. "Two on two? Doesn't sound too bad."

For several moments, the four of them seemed to be at a standstill. Nadder's gaze flicked back and forth between the twins, waiting for either of them to make a move; beside her, Night was doing the same. She had already spotted their items, the matching shark-tooth necklaces they always wore, but the challenge was in getting to them. The twins were both standing slightly crouched, ready for action, but neither were moving. This could be her chance.

Without warning, she lunged forward towards Tough, who was the closer of the two, reaching for his necklace. He was quicker, however; he and Rough split up, sprinting in opposite directions, and Nadder's hand closed on empty air. She whirled around and darted after him, while Night sprinted after Rough.

Tough was faster than Nadder had anticipated, but she was more agile. He leapt from the rooftop, skidding down the shingles and sending a few of them skittering down to the ground. He landed hard on the ground and then stumbled forward, while she landed gracefully beside him and pounced – but once again she missed his necklace by just an inch. He started off running down the street and she took off after him. He didn't seem to be retreating, though; when he glanced back at her over his shoulder, he was grinning.

Nadder sprinted full-out to close the gap between them, and she just about had Tough within her reach, when he seemed to grow faded and fuzzy. Slowly and yet all at once, something changed, and when he spun around to face her, Nadder was bewildered to find herself face-to-face with Rough.

"They _switched?_ " came Night's affronted voice from somewhere not far away. " _How_?"

Before Nadder could blink, Rough sprang towards her, reaching for her bracelet just as Nadder had lunged for her necklace a moment ago. Thankfully Nadder pulled away just in time and sprinted off – and this time, she was the one being pursued.

She turned a corner and nearly ran into Night, who was being chased by Tough, and in a moment they were surrounded. They kept switching back and forth, teleporting into each other's places, stronger and quicker than they had just done a moment before; it made Nadder's head spin and she couldn't keep track of them. _That's the point,_ she realized.

"They're only possessed by one dragon," she noted, back-to-back with Night as they looked for an opportunity to strike.

He seemed to understand. "Two bodies, one mind." His voice grew thoughtful. "So if we separate them..."

 _They'll be weakened,_ Nadder finished the thought. "Split up!" she shouted, and she and Night began sprinting in opposite directions once again, breaking past the dragonized twins. The pavement was hard under her feet, and she could hear the sound of one of the twins hot on her trail. She snuck a glance over her shoulder and saw that it was Tough again, not so far behind her, but he seemed to be losing speed. The gap between them grew bigger, and he seemed to flicker like the screen of an old television, almost fading – more so the further away he got from Rough, Nadder noted triumphantly. Their theory had been right. Once she lured him far enough away, it would be simple to turn on him and snatch his necklace away. Hopefully Night would catch Rough's at the same time.

When she glanced behind her once again to check on Tough, however, Nadder was startled to see that he seemed to be gaining strength again. The reason why was soon apparent – Rough darted into the street from an alleyway and ran towards Nadder, who screeched to a halt. Her breath came in ragged gasps as she looked back and forth between the two, who had begun switching back and forth rapidly, heavily disorienting her. She shook her head to clear it, trying to keep her focus.

 _Night, where are you?_ she thought, a sudden dread settling in her stomach. Both bodies of the Zippleback were here... so where had her partner gone? What had Rough done to him?

As soon as the thought entered her mind, a sudden streak of black came shooting down from one of the rooftops nearby, bowling into Tough; he was knocked back with a cry of surprise. Nadder was just barely able to make out what had attacked him, and then she blinked – it was Night Fury.

And he was flying.

 _No_ , she realized after a moment, _not_ _flying_. _Gliding_. He sped unsteadily through the air with his arms spread wide and some sort of fabric stretched between his arms and his side, making him look like a flying squirrel. He closed his arms and landed hard on the ground, stumbling forward a few paces before finally catching himself. He turned to face Tough, who was on the ground, likely trying to figure out what had tackled him.

Rough turned to look, her expression bewildered, and Nadder saw her chance. In one swift, fluid movement she darted forward and snatched the shark tooth charm, breaking the chain as she jerked it away. She threw the item, glowing faintly with dark energy, to the ground and crushed it beneath her foot, feeling an intense relief.

Unlike usual, there was no dragonesque silhouette fluttering up from the broken item. The dark energy vanished from the item, but Rough stayed dragonized, still clothed in scaly armor with slit yellow eyes. "Night!" she shouted, whipping around to face him while Rough leaned against the side of the nearest building, looking winded. "Break his necklace!"

"I'm _trying,_ " he shot back, wrestling to get a good hold on the remaining half of the Zippleback. Tough kept squirming out of his grasp, as slippery as an eel, and making attempts to snatch Night's watch.

"Come on, give me the miraculous!" he complained.

"How about you give me your item instead?" Night countered. Finally, he managed to pull Tough's arms behind his back, holding him still for only a moment – but that was all the time Nadder needed.

She bounded over and pulled off his necklace, just as she had done to his sister, and broke it beneath her foot. This time, the shape of a dark two-headed dragon flapped up from the shattered remains. Nadder cupped the little creature in her hands and then released it again; at the same time, the twins' draconic appearances melted away, and the Zippleback was defeated.

Nadder smirked and then walked back over to Night, who had released Tough. "So," she said, looking him over, "you fly now?"

He grinned enthusiastically. "Won't it be helpful in battles? Of course, this is just the very first prototype, I'll have to make some modifications – I can't really slow down with this one. Or turn. Or -"

"You're going to get yourself killed," she interrupted, exasperated.

Night scratched the back of his neck. "Okay, so maybe the wingsuit isn't that steady at the moment, but it'll get better. I'll keep working on it!" He bent down to gather up the wingsuit material and strap it back to his sides, and she noticed something else.

"Your tail?" she said quizzically.

He blinked. "What about it?"

"It's red."

"Oh yeah!" He stood up again and pulled his tail out front of him, so Nadder could see it more clearly. "One of the tailfin-things ripped off in the fight yesterday so I was going to sew a new one on to fix it, but... all-black is a little boring, don't you think? I wanted to add some color." He ran his hands over it, checking the stitches. "I think it looks pretty cool. And then after I fixed that, I got the idea for the wingsuit – I wasn't sure what would happen if I tried to modify the suit, since it's magic and I didn't know if anything I added would vanish when I untransformed and then come back when I transformed again..." He was rambling now, but Nadder didn't mind; she just smiled softly at him. "...but the tail worked so I thought that I'd give this a try as well."

"It definitely adds to the whole dragon-theme," she noted, and Night beamed – if he heard the uncertainty in her voice, he didn't acknowledge it.

"Exactly what I was going for," he said. "Next I was thinking I should try to make something with fire, since dragons breathe fire – I mean, I have plasma blasts but they're not really the same. I can't really make us able to breathe fire, but I thought maybe a weapon that shoots fire. Or a weapon that's _on_ fire." His eyes lit up with a sudden spark. "A sword or a staff or something. Wouldn't that be cool?"

Nadder stared at him disbelievingly. "Night," she said pointedly, "if you make yourself a flaming sword, you will probably end up burning down all of Berk. I specifically forbid you from making any fiery weapons."

Night stared at her with mock offense. "You can't forbid me from stuff!"

"I'm the superhero and you're just the sidekick," she responded, a playful teasing in her voice, "so yes, I can."

He pouted. "Is that officially decided on?"

She laughed. "I'll see you later," she told him, and he smiled back at her.

"See you later," he repeated.

Nadder turned and began climbing up the side of the nearest building, using the fire escape, until she was up on the rooftop. Gracefully, she walked across them, pretending she couldn't feel Night's gaze on her until she was out of his line of sight.

He was in her thoughts the whole way home.


	6. Keeping Secrets

"What do you think, Toothless?"

Hiccup lifted his notebook to show the little dragon, who was dozing on the end of Hiccup's bed. Toothless lifted his head and squinted at it.

"I think you're going to get yourself killed," he said dryly.

Hiccup sighed with exasperation. "That's what Nadder said too." He put the book down on his desk again. "This _will_ work, I just have to keep tweaking it." He flipped his pencil around and erased the edge of the drawing – a diagram of his flight suit. He adjusted the edges on both sides, making sure to keep them symmetrical, and then held it out in front of him and inspected it. "I think this'll work better," he said aloud. "Now I just have to actually adjust it." He looked back over to Toothless pleadingly.

Toothless sighed. "Fine," he relented, and Hiccup grinned.

"Toothless," he said, taking a deep breath, "transform-"

He was interrupted by a loud knock on his bedroom door. "Hickory?" came the gruff voice of his father. "Are you in there?"

Hiccup's face paled. "Hide!" he hissed to Toothless, scrambling to shut his notebook and then throwing it under a pile of schoolbooks. Toothless dove under the bed, vanishing from sight just as the door opened.

"Hey, Dad," Hiccup greeted awkwardly. "You're home early."

Samuel Haddock was the mayor of Berk - a large man, nearly seven feet tall with a fiery red beard and an attitude that had earned him the nickname _Stoic._ He was also one of the only ones who called Hiccup by his real name. "Hickory," he began; his voice was even more serious than it usually was. "You've been keeping things from me."

Hiccup's face paled. "Ha-have I?" he said, trying to hide his nervousness. _Oh no,_ he was thinking frantically, _he found out? How could he have possibly have found out?_

"When were you going to tell me?" asked his father, crossing the room and sitting down on the edge of Hiccup's bed, which bowed substantially beneath him. Hiccup could just barely make out the startled eyes of a panicked Toothless, still sheltering underneath it, but Hiccup didn't acknowledge him.

"Uh – tell you about what?" Hiccup asked, stalling for time. His heart was racing, and he hid his hands inconspicuously behind his back so that his dad couldn't see them trembling. If his dad had found out about him being Night Fury, how long until the word spread? How long until everyone knew? How long until _Drago_ knew?

Stoic seemed to sense Hiccup's discomfort. "I'm not mad," he said with a sigh, "I just wish you had told me. I'm your _father,_ I can help with things like this."

Hiccup ran his hands through his hair. "I – sorry, I didn't think this was really something I wanted to... to tell _anyone_ , you know? It's just..." He trailed off uncertainly, and Stoic sighed again.

"Hickory, it's _okay,_ " he said, shifting on the bed to get more comfortable. "Lots of people get bad grades sometimes."

Hiccup blinked. "I... what?"

His father unfolded a piece of paper that Hiccup hadn't realized he was carrying, and when it was held up, he realized that it was his latest report card. "You're failing algebra," his father noted, "and nearly history as well. You've missed several assignments, too. Hickory, what's going on?"

Hiccup could have laughed, he was so relieved. School. This was about _school._ Not Night Fury or Toothless or Drago – just grades. He fought to keep his expression serious. "I've just been... so busy with everything, you know?" he managed.

Stoic considered this. "Still, you've always been clever – these are uncharacteristically low for you."

 _Probably because I'm busy all the time saving all of Berk,_ Hiccup thought dryly, but of course he said nothing out loud. _It doesn't leave much time for homework._

"Perhaps it wasn't the best idea to put you in public school," his father went on.

Hiccup looked startled. "No, no, the school is great," he said, hurriedly. It wasn't that he hadn't liked homeschooling, but he didn't want to go back to it – he would miss Finn, and Heather, and the twins, and _Astrid..._ He forced his mind off of them. "I'll work harder, I promise," he told his father, trying to sound earnest.

Stoic beamed at him. "If you ever need help, I can go over it with you," he offered. "I know I haven't been home much recently – there's been so much work to do. We're using all of our resources to track down this _Drago_ guy so we can get him away from Berk. In the meantime, I'm glad we have Deadly Nadder and Night Fury to take care of anything he sends."

 _You're welcome,_ thought Hiccup.

"All this... _magic_ and _dragons_ ," his father went on, "it's a bit above my head if I'm being honest. I definitely wasn't prepared for this when I ran for office. None of which you have to worry about, of course." He stood up and ruffled Hiccup's hair fondly.

"Of course," Hiccup echoed. "I'll just... focus on school and homework and important stuff like that."

Stoic smiled, the skin around his eyes wrinkling up. "That's my boy," he said proudly. "I'm glad we had this talk." He walked back out of the room and into the hallway.

Hiccup waited until he had gone back downstairs before shutting the door behind him and then collapsing backwards on the bed with a sigh. "That was close," he muttered, as Toothless came zooming up from underneath the dark and dusty bed. "Sometimes I wish I could tell him – it'd make everything so much easier."

"Maybe you _could_ tell him?" Toothless offered, coming to rest on the bed beside him.

"Toothless, you know I can't," Hiccup responded, sitting up and resting his elbows on his knees. "I mean, I trust him to keep a secret, but if one person finds out then it would be all too easy for it to spread. Then everyone would know, and then Drago would know."

Both of them were silent for a few minutes more. Finally, Toothless spoke.

"I wish I could say this will be over soon," he said, his big green eyes gazing at Hiccup, "but to be honest, I don't know how long Drago will keep attacking. He's been around before, but the heroes of the city have always been able to defend against him. This time..." He trailed off. "He seems much stronger than before. I don't think he's going to stop unless he gets your miraculouses, or unless he's defeated for good."

Hiccup rubbed his watch out of habit. "What does he want with them anyway?"

"Power," Toothless responded, simply. "The more miraculous one has, the more powerful each one becomes, which is why no person should ever hold more than once. People just... aren't meant to have that much control. That much power."

There was another long pause, and finally Hiccup sighed and stood up. "I should probably actually do my homework now," he relented. "Too many more missed assignments and my dad might get even more suspicious."

Toothless laughed, although it was subdued. "Have fun with that," he said, wandering under the blankets on the bed and curling up beneath them. Hiccup smiled faintly at him and then turned back to his desk.

He sighed, wondering why the secret-superhero thing had to be so hard.


	7. A Monstrous Morning

"Here we go again," Astrid muttered.

She rolled out of bed with a yawn, her hair a mess. A quick glance at her clock told her that it was 6:03 AM. She had been awoken by a loud crash outside, and then the unmistakable sight of a dragonized one running along the street. Quickly, she woke Stormfly, and with a whisper of _"transform me!"_ the Deadly Nadder was back in action. She opened her window and scaled down the building to the street, first checking to make sure nobody was watching, and then ran off in the direction the dragonized one has gone. She met up with Night Fury on the way – he had been awoken by the sound of conflict as well – and then finally they found the one they were looking for.

Now here they were, early in the morning – the sun was barely up! – and already they were out on the streets, facing off against the newest of Drago's possessed villains.

This one was a young man, short and stocky with the beginnings of a scraggly mustache on his upper lip. Nadder recognized him as Scott Jorgenson, one of her classmates.

She rubbed her eyes irritably, wishing Drago could at least wait until a reasonable hour to attack. Beside her, Night yawned widely, although he made an attempt to conceal it. It didn't look like he had gotten much sleep last night.

At the moment, they were on the edge of the city, squinting at "Monstrous Nightmare" as the new villain was calling himself. The faint morning sunlight glinted of his scaly armor, fiery red and orange. "This doesn't have to be hard," he said reasonably. "Just give me what I want, and I'll leave you all alone." He leaned on his staff, a tall wooden cane with dragonesque scales all down the side.

"Let me guess," said Night, "you want our miraculouses."

Monstrous Nightmare grinned, revealing a missing tooth. "Correct," he said, dragging the word out. He shifted his weight to his other foot and started twirling his staff around innocently. "Or else..."

"You'll terrorize the city," Nadder finished. "We've dealt with _lots_ of people like you before – all Drago's weapons are the same."

"And we beat all of them," Night pointed out helpfully.

Nightmare didn't seem put off. "But you haven't met _me_ ," he said confidently. He lifted his staff from the ground and took off running, surprisingly quickly. Night immediately went after him; Nadder gave a longsuffering sigh and then followed.

"It's... too early..." Night panted, "to deal with this."

Nadder said nothing, but she agreed.

Thankfully they didn't have to go far – Nightmare spun back around to face them after only a minute or two, once they were in downtown Berk. All around, Nadder could see civilians who were just beginning their day turning around to look at the two superheroes and the villain. Some looked startled or frightened, while others barely paid attention – Drago's attacks came so often that Nadder wasn't really surprised. It was still a dangerous situation, however.

"Get inside!" she yelled to them, just to be safe. "Take cover!"

She turned her attention back to Monstrous Nightmare. He was fairly muscular, but he was nearly a foot shorter than either Night or Nadder, so it was a bit hard to take him seriously. Nadder stared him down, but couldn't figure out what his item was. Not yet, anyway.

 _Keep him distracted,_ she mouthed to Night, who nodded almost imperceptibly, and then she looked at Nightmare once again. "So," she said conversationally, "If you take our miraculouses – "

" _When_ I take your miraculouses," Monstrous Nightmare corrected with a growl.

"-what are you planning to do with them?" Nadder continued on, ignoring the interruption. "You're going to use them for yourself?"

Nightmare's angry expression faltered for a moment, and he looked puzzled. "Of course not," he said. "I'll deliver them to Drago."

"Ah, Drago," said Night Fury, acting casual. Nightmare's gaze flitted over to him, and Nadder slowly inched to the side. "He's a friend of yours?"

"...no," Monstrous Nightmare said, a tad uncertainly. "We just have an... arrangement. We made a deal."

"You give him our miraculouses," Night guessed, "and in return he gives you... what?"

Nightmare gripped his staff tighter, his yellow eyes narrowing. "Revenge," he growled. He was focused on Night Fury entirely now, the two boys staring at each other, and he had not yet noticed Nadder slowly creeping up on him from behind. She couldn't yet see his item, but she assumed that his staff was his weapon, like so many other dragonized people they had fought. If she could get it away from him... taking him down would be easy.

"Revenge," Night Fury repeated with interest. "How so?"

Nadder reached out for the staff, each movement silent and slow to avoid being noticed.

"None of your business," snapped Monstrous Nightmare. "Just hand over your miraculouses."

"I don't think so," came Night's response. "We're not afraid of you."

Monstrous Nightmare stiffened with fury. "You will be," he hissed, clutching his staff close to him just as Nadder was about to grab it from him; her fingertips brushed the very edge of it and then it was out of her reach. He spun around to face her, holding his staff threateningly. "You'll all be afraid of me."

Before either of them could do anything, he spun his staff around and aimed it at one of the sleepy civilians who hadn't gone inside. A blast of orange shot out from the end and hit the man, who fell to the ground with a cry. Nadder's heart skipped a beat, and several people nearby screamed in fear.

"I said _get inside!"_ Nadder shouted again, sprinting over to the fallen civilian with rising panic. He didn't appear injured – his eyes were open and he was breathing – but there was an expression of purest terror on his face. Nadder tried to help him to his feet, but he didn't seem aware of anything around him. Behind her, she heard the sound of Nightmare firing twice more, and two more civilians fell. Nadder leapt to her feet and stared at Monstrous Nightmare, feeling horribly uncertain of what to do next.

Monstrous Nightmare turned around, spinning the staff around in his hands with a confident smirk on his face. "Soon," he vowed, "everyone in this entire city will truly know _fear._ "

Nadder's gaze was flicking around at the others who had already been hit with his blast – other citizens had gathered around, helping the ones who were down. They weren't injured, she had realized. Not physically, at least. They were absolutely _terrified._

She longed to run over and get them to safety, but she knew that her more important duty right now was to make sure Nightmare didn't escape, make sure he couldn't hurt anyone else – the cries and whimpers of the affected citizens were breaking her heart though.

She was so focused on the civilians that she didn't see Nightmare stop turning his staff suddenly and aim it at her; she didn't hear the sound of the blast that emitted from it. All she heard was Night – "Nadder, MOVE!" he yelled from somewhere behind her, and then he was right beside her, his hands on her shoulder, and she was shoved aside. Only then did she hear the blast, followed by a muffled _thump._ Night gave a cry of surprise that cut off suddenly, and then it was silent.

Nadder could only blink for a moment, staring at the ground where she had fallen, too stunned to do anything else – and then she pushed herself to her feet, looking around wildly. It took her a moment but then – _there!_ – she saw the black-clad figure lying face down on the ground a few yards away.

"Night," she gasped, barely audibly, and then she was at his side before she had even registered beginning to run. Cautiously, almost fearfully, she put one hand on his shoulder, gently turning him over onto his back. He was limp as if he was unconscious, but when she saw his face she could see that his eyes were wide open, the pupils shrunk down to no more than tiny slits. He had no visible wounds, but when she gathered him into her arms, across her lap, she could feel that he was shaking all over, trembling as if sick. "Night?" she whispered again, her heart pounding fearfully in her chest. _What had the Monstrous Nightmare done to him?_

Night Fury gave a choked whimper, but he didn't seem to realize Nadder was even there. His eyes darted back and forth, looking everywhere but seeing nothing. His breath came in short, ragged gasps. He looked _terrified,_ but physically unhurt.

"You're gonna be okay, Night, you hear me?" Nadder told him, hating the tremor in her voice. What kind of superhero was she if she couldn't take care of her partner, let alone the whole city? "You're gonna be okay."

He was whimpering again, small sounds of fear. Nadder looked up from him for a moment, searching for Monstrous Nightmare; the dragon was watching the scene with a satisfied smirk, preparing his staff for another blast. She looked back down at Night. She knew her first duty was to protect the civilians, to take down Monstrous Nightmare, but she couldn't just leave Night helpless and shaking on the ground. With one fluid motion, she shifted him into her grasp, one arm supporting his neck and the other under his knees, and then lifted him off the ground. She was surprised by how easy it was – she hadn't realized he was so light. His head lolled limply against her shoulder, eyes still wide and unblinking.

With one last look at Monstrous Nightmare, the Deadly Nadder turned away and ducked inside the nearest building. Night stirred a bit at the sudden movement, mumbling unintelligibly. "Shhh, don't worry," she told him, trying to ignore the rising panic that she felt. "I'm here, I'm here. You'll be okay."

She kicked open a door into a side room of the building; the whole place seemed to have been abandoned. She set Night down on the floor, exceedingly gently. "Nnnn…" he moaned, and then a word formed. "N-Nadder…"

"I'm here," she told him again, taking one of his hands in hers, but he still seemed unconscious of her presence.

"N-no…" he whispered, trembling; a single tear rolled down his cheek. "Please…. no…" His other hand scrabbled helplessly at the ground. Nadder hated this, hated watching him suffer and knowing she was completely and utterly helpless to change anything. She didn't want to leave him – she never wanted to leave him – but she knew Nightmare was still out there. How many others had been struck down just like Night in the time she had taken to bring him to safety, left shaken and scared, trembling and terrified?

She knew she had to go back out; regretfully, she let go of Night Fury's hand. He drew his arm back, curling up tightly and putting his hands over his head as if to protect himself. He was lost in his own world and it wouldn't make a difference to him if she was there or not.

Slowly, Nadder stood up again. "I'm sorry," she whispered; he gave no reply. With a deep breath and new determination, she turned around and ran back outside, rejoining the fight.


	8. Night Terrors

Night hadn't intended to take the blast for her.

He saw the Monstrous Nightmare turn around, saw Nadder distracted with the civilians. He realized what Nightmare was about to do a moment before he did it – and he just reacted.

"Nadder, MOVE!" he shouted, sprinting forward. He had meant to shove her out of the way, so that they could both take down Nightmare while he was between shots, but he was just a moment too late. The orange blast shot out from the dragon's staff as Night had only just reached Nadder, and the blast hit him full in the chest.

He gave a cry of surprise as he was thrown backwards, which cut off short as he hit the ground, and then the world shattered around him.

He was on the ground, he dimly realized – why was he on the ground? Weakly, he pushed himself up; a panicked look around told him that he was home, in his room. The great hulking figure of his father was silhouetted against the light from the hallway, one arm extended. His father had pushed him to the floor.

"You are a disgrace to our family name," his father growled, and his voice seemed to multiply in the boy's ears so that the words echoed back from every direction. "You are not a Haddock, you pathetic child." Every word felt like a punch. "You're not my son."

Night let out a ragged gasp as his father walked away without turning back, vanishing into the hallway. "No, please…" Night whispered; his father slammed the door and Night was engulfed in darkness.

All at once he was standing again, in light so bright it hurt his eyes. He could hear laughter all around him – not amused, but mocking and cruel – and without even looking he knew that it was directed at him.

Scott was there suddenly, staring down at him – when had he gotten so tall? "You're _hopeless,_ " he drawled, eyes cold and cruel. "Why do you even try? You'll never be able to do anything right."

Then Finn was there too, but there was no kindness or friendship in his gaze. "You thought we were _friends?_ " he laughed, and Night's heart nearly failed. "Why would I want to be friends with you, you scrawny weirdo?" He shoved the smaller boy to the ground, and the laughter only increased. Night looked around wildly and saw that all of his classmates were there now, staring at him with malice.

"Pathetic!" cried Heather.

"Hopeless," laughed Tommy.

"Helpless!" added Rachel.

"Weak!"

"Useless!"

"Mistake!"

"Crippled!"

"Useless!"

"Useless!"

 _"Useless!"_

"No," he gasped again, burying his head in his arms to block their insults and their jeers, but nothing helped. "No, no, no…"

Then one voice rang out, louder than all the others. "Why are you even here?"

Night lifted his head weakly, and there she was.

"Go home," Astrid growled. "You don't belong here. We don't want you. Get out of here, useless!" She turned and stalked off, and the others followed suit. Night tried get up, tried to follow them, but when he attempted to stand he stumbled and fell down again. His prosthetic was missing, he realized dimly. Where had it gone? He tried crawling after them, but they were far faster than he was, and he could only watch them disappear one by one until only Astrid was visible. He reached for her desperately, but she dissolved, and then the scene changed again.

It was nighttime, and he was standing, but there was a feeling in the pit of his stomach that told him something was completely, utterly, entirely wrong. He looked around wildly – and then he saw her.

His knees grew weak and he almost collapsed right then and there, but he forced himself to run, to kneel by her side. "Nadder," he gasped, reaching out tentatively, unsure of how to help. She was flat on her back, clutching her side, her face screwed up in agony; something dark and wet and _red_ was spreading out underneath her, staining the street. Her breathing seemed shallow and week, but when she turned her head to look at him, her eyes were as bright as ever.

"Where _were_ you?" she hissed, with more hatred in her voice than he would have thought possible. "Why weren't you there for me?"

"I – I'm sorry," he choked out. "I didn't mean to – I didn't want this –"

"This is _your_ fault," she told him bitterly, fiercely. "You did this to me."

"No," Night begged, "please, no…" His hands were red, but he didn't remember touching her. The dark puddle had reached his knees.

She reached up suddenly and grabbed his wrist, so tightly that her tails dug into his skin. "Your fault," she growled once more, and then her grip loosened. Her arm fell back down to the ground, limply, and then the faint rise-and-fall of her chest stopped entirely, but her furious eyes never left his.

All was silent.

"Nadder…" he breathed, barely audibly, backing away in horror as the Deadly Nadder's last words echoed over and over in his head. _Your fault_ … _your fault…_ "No… _please,_ no…" He was begging, but his pleas fell on deaf ears. A single tear rolled down his face. He tried to look away, focus on something else – _anything else_ – but he couldn't tear his gaze from his partner's bloody, unmoving form.

Just when he thought he might go insane from the horror of it all, the scene changed again.

He was in his room, un-transformed. Toothless was staring at him, eyes wide and haunted.

"You killed her," he said quietly, and then louder, "You killed her!"

"No," Night gasped again; it seemed to be all he could say. "No."

"You let her die."

"I didn't!"

"You _failed._ "

The word rang out like a shot and Night's voice stopped working entirely, but the next words were so much worse.

"You are not worthy to be Night Fury," Toothless said, without a trace of warmth in his voice. "You messed up. You failed."

Night opened his mouth but no sound came out. He tried to back away, but it was as if he had been paralyzed. Toothless flew forward, and although he didn't speak, Night could feel the anger and disappointment radiating off of him. He darted down and pulled off Night's Miraculous, his wristwatch; he wanted to fight back, to argue, but he was frozen.

"I can't believe I ever expected better from you," Toothless told him, and then he vanished, and Night could move again. His knees gave out from beneath him and he collapsed to the ground.

"No," he begged to the empty air, "please, please, no."

There was nobody to answer his cries. Night was alone – except he wasn't _Night_ anymore. Night Fury was gone. Now he was _Hiccup_. Just Hiccup. Only Hiccup.

He curled into himself, his shoulders heaving with sobs, and then the ground gave way beneath him and he was falling. He couldn't even find the energy to fight it; he let himself fall, deeper and deeper into endless nothingness. Echoes of voices screamed out at him, starting out barely audible but growing louder and louder until they seemed to overwhelm him, even though he could no longer make out the individual words.

Just when he thought he might pass out from the intensity, everything stopped all at once, and Hiccup woke up.

He lay there on the ground for several long minutes, unmoving, just trying to catch his breath. It took him a while to regain control of his senses. He was lying on a smooth, cold tile floor, and he was still curled up around himself. Slowly, cautiously, he stretched out, blinking his eyes open, and then sitting up. His hands were still trembling, just slightly, and he realized his face was streaked with tears. He wiped them away, his fingers catching on the edge of his mask – he was the Night Fury again, he realized with relief. He was okay. Toothless hadn't abandoned him, his father hadn't disowned him, his classmates hadn't turned against him. Nadder was okay. His eyes widened. _Nadder._

The last thing he remembered was pushing her out of the way, out in the street; she must have carried him here. She was probably still out there, battling the Monstrous Nightmare on her own. _What if she's been hit too?_ he realized with horror. He had to find her. Night got to his feet, as quickly as his sore body allowed him, and then limped outside.

He blinked in the sunlight and looked around, hoping to locate Nadder and Nightmare; he saw nothing, but then he heard shouting, distantly coming from his left. He took off running, wincing but fighting through it.

It didn't take long to find them. The sounds of fighting were coming from only the street over, and barely a second after Night started hobbling towards it, Monstrous Nightmare came tumbling backwards.

He landed hard on the ground and then scrambled backwards, yellow eyes wide with fear, as Nadder stalked towards him; she was radiating with fury. She lifted her hands. "Stormfly," she began, likely to give the _spine shot_ command, but then she just barely caught sight of Night Fury. She faltered and her eyes widened. Monstrous Nightmare took the opportunity of her distraction to scramble to his feet and sprint away.

Nadder stared at Night for a moment or two more, and then she ran over to him. He moved towards her, expecting a hug – and then she punched him in the shoulder. _Hard._

"What was that for?" he hissed, clutching his shoulder and shrinking back.

"You _idiot!"_ Nadder exploded. "What were you thinking?"

"I..." He blinked at her. "What did I do?"

"You took Nightmare's blast." She avoided his gaze, glancing him up and down, and then reached up to brush some dust off his shoulder. "You're not allowed to make me worried like that – what if you had gotten hurt?" She glanced back up at him, her yellow eyes meeting his green. " _Are_ you hurt?"

"I'm fine," he responded, giving her a small smile. He felt sore all over, but he chose not to mention that. "Besides, it's our job to keep people safe. Better me than another one of the civilians. Or you." He glanced down at the ground. "You're the hero, I'm just your sidekick."

"You know I didn't really mean that," Nadder said, and when he glanced up again he could see that her expression was one of concern. "We're a _team_ , Night. I need you as much as you need me." She put her hand on his shoulder tenderly, and their eyes met again. "Now, how about we go take down this Monstrous Nightmare once and for all?"

He grinned. "Definitely."

* * *

Less than ten minutes later, the two heroes were standing over Scott Jorgenson, newly-freed from the dragon and struggling to catch his breath. The pin that he had been wearing was shattered underneath Nadder's foot, and she was watching the white dragon silhouette fly away.

"Nice work," Night told her, helping Scott to his feet.

"You too," she responded. Her bracelet gave a quiet beep and she glanced down at it. "Try to stay out of trouble, will you?"

He grinned at her again. "Will do," he responded with a mock salute, and she smiled back before disappearing around the corner of a building. Night headed off in the opposite direction, limping slightly – from his old injury or from today's experiences, he wasn't sure. He ducked inside an empty building and then whispered, "Toothless, untransform me."

In a moment Night Fury had vanished, replaced with Hiccup. He stashed a sleepy Toothless into the inner pocket of his jacket, glancing around to make sure nobody was watching, and then started walking along the sidewalk again. He glanced down at his miraculous, once again just a normal wristwatch, and started.

 _7:39 am_. He was late for school.

Again.


	9. Discussions and Debates

"Hey, Astrid. What'cha up to?"

Astrid jumped, startled. "Nothing," she said, far too quickly, clicking her phone screen off so it was no longer visible.

Heather laughed, sitting down beside her on the stone steps. "Relax," she said, "I wasn't accusing you of anything." She pushed her messily-braided dark hair off her shoulder.

Astrid gave a small laugh. "Sorry. I guess I'm a little jumpy."

"Honestly, I am too." Heather leaned back, looking up at the sky. It was a brilliant blue in color, with only the faintest of clouds around it. "All these dragon attacks lately... have you noticed they seem to be coming more often?"

"Yeah..." Astrid trailed off. She glanced around at the courtyard; school had ended over half an hour ago, but it was such a nice day that most of the students had chosen to stay and hang out. She could see the twins arguing over something, too far away for her to make out the words, and Hiccup and Finn were sitting together at one of the outside tables. "I'm sure Berk's defenders are working hard to keep us safe."

"Mm-hmm," Heather agreed. "They're pretty cool, aren't they? Especially _Night Fury_." She said the last part in a sing-song tone.

Astrid blinked, turning to look at her quizzically. "What?"

"Oh, come on," said Heather, exasperated, "every time someone mentions him you get all nervous and uncomfortable. I know what that means." She gave Astrid a playful punch on the shoulder. "You _like_ him."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Astrid argued; her face was growing uncomfortably warm and she fought to hide it.

"All right," Heather responded, slyly. There was a short pause, and then she said, "He's pretty cute, though, right?"

Astrid spluttered. "I – I guess..." she managed, "if you like that... selfless hero type." She was only digging herself a deeper hole, and she knew it. Heather laughed again. "Oh, leave me alone."

"Okay," she relented, getting to her feet; her eyes were bright with amusement. "I'll see you tomorrow." Astrid watched her leave and then she let out a sigh.

She picked up her phone again, turning it back on. Finn's _Blog of Dragons_ stared back her, open to the page about Night Fury. She scrolled down it aimlessly, not sure what she was looking for. She had heard of it before – Finn would talk excitedly about his project to anyone who would listen – but she had never actually looked at it until today. After all, what could Finn possibly know about her or Night than she didn't already know? But what he had mentioned just yesterday, about Night's limp... she hadn't realized. She had seen it in the battle with Monstrous Nightmare earlier that day, so she knew it was true. How had she not realized? Perhaps there _was_ something else she could learn.

For a few moments, she just stared at the photo of Night on her phone screen. She did care about him, she knew she did, but she hadn't realized just _how much_ until earlier today. Seeing him scared and helpless – it had made her more furious than she'd ever been. She never wanted to see him hurt again.

This whole thing would be so much easier if she just knew who he actually was.

Astrid sighed again, putting her phone away and letting her gaze wander around the courtyard. Only a handful of students were still hanging around now, and she could see several of her classmates sitting across from her. She tried to distract herself, but her thoughts floated back to Night Fury again. She wondered if he cared about her as much as she cared about him. The image of him collapsed on the ground, trembling and wide-eyed, wouldn't leave her head. She knew he had been living his worst nightmares.

Some part of her wondered what he had seen.

* * *

"I know who the Deadly Nadder is!" announced Finn, as soon as Hiccup walked up to him.

Hiccup froze. "You – you do?" he asked, sliding down onto the seat next to Finn. _How could he have found out?_ he wondered wildly. _Does he know who Night Fury is too?_

"Well, not exactly," Finn admitted, "but I have a guess." He pulled out his phone and brought up a photo, which he showed to Hiccup with excitement – it was Astrid. Hiccup blinked. Finn slid the photo to the left to show a copy of the photo, on top of which he had drawn – rather poorly, but Hiccup would never say so out loud – Nadder's mask and costume. "What do you think?"

Hiccup stared at the photo for a long time. He glanced across the courtyard, where he could see Astrid sitting on the school steps with Heather beside her. "You're crazy, Finn," he concluded finally. "There's no way Astrid is Nadder." _I would know if she was_ , he thought firmly. "I mean, I guess I see where you're coming from – they do look a little similar – but they act completely different."

"Yeah, I know it's not that likely," Finn admitted, putting his phone away, "but it's just fun to guess, you know? I still have no idea who Night Fury could be, though."

"Who cares who Night Fury is?" came Scott's loud voice as he plopped down on the bench across the table from them. "Everyone knows that the Deadly Nadder's the real hero."

"Definitely!" agreed Rough, coming over to join the group with Tough right behind her.

"Isn't Night Fury her sidekick?" Tough asked, leaning against the table. "I mean, sure, he's a hero and all that but he's still just a sidekick."

"He still does a great job defending Berk," Finn put in, "but Nadder's my favorite." There were murmurs of agreement all around. Hiccup wasn't surprised – he agreed with them.

"I think Night Fury's better," came an unexpected voice. Hiccup turned to see that Astrid had crossed the courtyard to join the conversation.

"Really?" snorted Rough. "Why?"

"He's underappreciated," said Astrid, leaning against the wall. "He's smart, he's an excellent fighter, and he has a good sense of humor – it isn't fair that Nadder gets all the credit."

"Nadder basically won the last battle entirely by herself, though," said Finn thoughtfully.

"I'd say she did," Scott said, smugly. "Night Fury was _totally_ out of commission."

"It's not funny, Scott," Astrid snapped. "He could have been seriously hurt."

"But Nadder's the one who can release the dragon spirits," Hiccup pointed out, finally joining the debate. "Without her, Night Fury wouldn't be able to get rid of them."

"Nadder would never be able to get to the dragon spirit if Night wasn't around to help her catch the dragonized one, though," Astrid argued back. "They couldn't save the day without each other."

Hiccup was reminded of what Nadder herself had said only earlier that day. "They're a team," he said aloud.

"Definitely," Finn said, and there were nods of agreement.

It was quiet for a few more moments before Rough pointed out, "They make a good couple, too, don't you think?"

Hiccup blinked. "Wait – seriously?"

"Don't tell me you haven't noticed." Finn turned around to face him with an expression of surprise. "They get along so well – there's definitely something between them."

"They're not – I don't think they're actually a couple, though," said Astrid. "Not yet, anyway."

The conversation went on, but Hiccup tuned out, lost in his thoughts. He had never thought of himself and Nadder like that – was that how they looked to everyone else?

He wasn't sure what to think about it.


	10. Fight or Flight

Even before she heard the voice, Astrid could feel something watching her.

Her skin prickled uncomfortably as she walked home, and she pulled her jacket tighter around her to keep warm. High above her, the sky was dark with clouds. She glanced behind her, but still she couldn't see anyone. A shiver ran though her.

And then she heard it – a whisper, quiet and low, in her ear.

 _"Hello,"_ said the voice. It was a man's, deep and scratchy and menacing. _"I see you're alone."_

Astrid whirled around, eyes wide. "Who's there?" she demanded, gaze flitting around. She still couldn't see anyone, until – _there!_ – a flicker of movement caught her eye. A dark shape, just a silhouette, of something small and winged and reptilian.

 _"Do not fear,"_ said the voice. " _My name is Drago. I'm here to make a deal with you."_

Astrid's face paled. "Oh, no," she muttered. She covered her ears in an attempt to block him out and sprinted down the street, trying to outrun the dragon. This couldn't be happening – not to _her!_ She glanced back over her shoulder, but the dragon was still right behind her, no matter how fast she ran. She should have known – it had been far too peaceful lately. Nearly a week had passed since the last attack. She never imagined that _she_ would be the next dragonized one.

She turned around a building and found herself cornered in an alleyway. The dark silhouette flapped towards her; it looked innocent, but she knew what it did. Her back was against the wall now, and before she could come up with a plan to get away, the dragon settled on her wrist and dissolved into her bracelet. It began to glow, and Astrid's vision darkened.

 _"Tell me,"_ came Drago's voice in her head again, _"what do you desire most of all?"_

 _Don't respond!_ her thoughts shrieked, but against her will, the words escaped. "To know the identity of Night Fury."

"Then I can give you that... just as long as you do something for me." Astrid shook her head, trying to free herself from Drago's words, but she knew he was taking control. "Take the miraculouses of Night Fury and Deadly Nadder and bring them to me."

 _Never!_ she thought furiously, but she heard herself say, darkly, "I will." She tried to fight the control – she was the one who _defeated_ Drago's puppets, she couldn't become one herself! – but she had no power over herself anymore. The darkness from her bracelet spread until it covered her whole body. It was a familiar feeling, but this time when the magic cleared, she was not the Deadly Nadder. She was something else entirely.

" _Welcome, Flightmare,"_ said Drago in her mind. " _Now, find the miraculouses."_

 _No, no, no_ , she thought with horror.

"Yes, Drago," she said aloud.

* * *

For the first time that Night could remember, the Deadly Nadder was late.

He had seen the newest dragonized one through the window of his house. Usually, by the time he had transformed and made it down to the streets, Nadder was already there waiting for him. If not, she would be right behind him. But this time... It had been nearly twenty minutes since Night had transformed, and there was still no Nadder in sight.

He had been trailing the dragonized one for quite some time, which was strange in itself. Usually the villains were quick to face him and Nadder, eager to fight, to try to snatch their miraculouses. But this one seemed to be running away. He still hadn't seen it entirely; he had only caught glimpses of it between buildings. It had no wings, he noted with relief, and it was glowing a bright blue all over. He could see the staff it carried, but he had yet to discover what it did.

Night caught sight of the dragonized one again, and put on an extra burst of speed to catch up with it. In a moment he was facing it, ready for battle.

It was hard to make out any of the dragonized one's features, as its neon glow was almost blinding. Night could just barely make out the sight of a dark mask around its – no, her – eyes, which were bright blue like the rest of her. She had blonde hair, pulled behind her in a tight braid, and her expression seemed almost anguished. She took a step towards him, almost hesitantly.

"Alright, I know the deal," Night said, staying where he was but watching her warily in case she moved. "You want my miraculous, I want to defeat you, blah blah blah. We can skip the whole thing if you just surrender now – it'd be a lot easier for both of us."

"No," said the dragonized one, but there didn't seem to be a lot of conviction in her voice.

"I thought you'd say that," Night went on, still squinting at her. "Oh well. I guess I'll just have to - " He broke off, his mouth hanging open ever so slightly as all at once he realized who the dragonized one was.

 _Oh, no_.

It was Astrid.

For a second he could only stare. He took a slight step backwards, anything he was going to say forgotten. _I can't fight_ Astrid, he thought with horror.

In the long moment that he hesitated, she made her move. She twirled her staff around and aimed it at him. A blast shot out towards him, looking more like glowing mist than fire or light, and it twirled around him. He tried to take a step forward and found that he was completely, utterly frozen.

Helpless, he was unable to do anything but watch as the dragonized Astrid pulled her staff closer to her and took off, perhaps to attack a city which was now undefended. No matter how he struggled, how he strained, he couldn't move his body whatsoever. He cursed himself for hesitating – this wouldn't have happened if he had just done what he was supposed to do! All he could do now was hope that it would wear off quickly, and hope that the dragonized one wouldn't attack anyone else while Night was stuck here.

 _Oh, Nadder,_ he thought desperately, _where_ are _you?_


	11. Power and Control

Astrid – Flightmare, that is – was running.

Drago's power had nearly full control over her now, but she refused to give in. She had paralyzed Night; it would have been so easy to steal his miraculous right then and there, and indeed it was what Drago was whispering in her ear to do. It took all her willpower to turn and run off instead.

 _"What are you doing?"_ hissed Drago. _"You had the perfect chance."_

"I want to find the Deadly Nadder's miraculous first," she told him, desperately hoping he couldn't read her thoughts and know that it would be impossible. "I'll come back for the Night Fury's later."

There was no response from Drago, but somehow she could tell he wasn't pleased with this. Her vision seemed to grow darker than it already was. She hadn't realized before just how much control Drago had over his dragonized ones – it was taking nearly all of her willpower just to gain basic control over her own body. If she was being honest with herself, it was absolutely terrifying.

Astrid kept herself busy for the next few minutes, running down streets and across rooftops and around buildings, occasionally freezing citizens she happened to run across, just so Drago wouldn't get suspicious. He didn't seem to be able to read her thoughts, or else he would have realized that she _was_ Nadder, so she just had to keep up the act long enough for Night to find her again.

She circled back around and started heading in the direction where she had left him. When she finally reached the street where he had been frozen, she was startled to discover that he wasn't there.

She came to a halt, looking around, and then something swooped down and knocked her staff from her grip.

Astrid stumbled forward, thrown off balance. She heard the staff go skittering some distance away, and she felt a stab of relief to have the weapon out of her hands. She turned to see what had hit her – and there he was.

Gliding wingsuit out, hair ruffled, the Night Fury faced her. Astrid took an involuntary step backwards. Her eyes flitted to his watch. _"Get it!"_ Drago whispered in her head. She could feel her arm reaching towards it, urging her to steal it off him. She was horrified to realize that some part of her genuinely wanted to. Some part of her longed to see who Night Fury really was, beneath the mask. She had to know.

She hesitated.

Before she could do anything else, however, Night took his chance. He lunged forward, reaching for her bracelet, and she pulled back against her will. Too late – the tips of his fingers caught the edge of her bracelet.

It broke with a snap, and Night was quick to step on the pieces. All at once, Astrid's mind cleared, so quickly that she grew dizzy. She leaned against a streetlight, off-balance, while her Flightmare appearance melted away. Drago's presence vanished from her mind. Her vision grew light again.

"A-are you all right?" Night asked her, holding out a hand. She couldn't read his expression.

She reached out and took it, and he helped her stand up. Their eyes met; she hadn't realized how tall he was. For a breathless moment, the two could only stare at each other – and then she caught herself. She reached down and scooped up her bracelet, which was in one piece again, as always happened when Drago's energy left an item, and slipped it back around her wrist.

He was still looking at her, and she realized she had asked him a question. "I – I'm fine," she responded, avoiding his gaze. She hoped she wasn't blushing. "Thanks." She took off without looking back at him, although she could feel him looking at her as she went.

She hurried past several people in the streets and ducked into the nearest building she saw, the Berk public library. She hurried off to a sheltered corner and pulled Stormfly out of her jacket pocket, hands trembling with anxiety. The little dragon's eyes were half-closed, and she was stirring weakly.

"Stormfly," she whispered, worried. "Are you okay?" She cradled Stormfly in her arms, keeping her close but still out of sight of anyone. Drago's control had manifested in her bracelet, the same bracelet that served as her miraculous and her link with Stormfly. She had no idea what that would do her.

"I'll be... fine..." Stormfly whispered back. She tried to lift her head to look up at Astrid, but the effort was too much for her and she grimaced. "Just... give me a minute... or ten..."

"It'll be okay," Astrid promised her softly, hoping it was true. "I'll find you something to eat, that'll help." She leaned against the wall, pulling Stormfly closer to her.

 _Hang on, Night,_ she thought helplessly. _I'll be there soon._

* * *

Not so far away, Night Fury was running along a rooftop, his gazed fixed on the small, dark form of a dragonesque silhouette flapping out of his reach.

He had realized his mistake as soon as he broke Astrid's bracelet and Drago's control – he had no way to catch the dark dragon he had just set free, and Nadder _still_ wasn't here. He had tried grabbing it several times, catching it like she would have done, but it just phased through his grip.

The dragon fluttered over to the next building, and Night perched on the very end of the building he was on. He stared down at the street, some twenty feet below him, and sighed. He backed up some distance and then sprinted towards the edge, leaping across the gap. He landed with a stumble and then hurried to catch up to the dragon.

All he could do was hope that Nadder would come soon. He was more worried than he'd like to admit – she was never late. Never. "What's going on, Nadder?" he muttered to himself. Had something happened to her? It had been nearly an hour now, and there was still no sign of her.

Night followed the dragon down to the street level again, weaving in and out of people walking along the sidewalk. He shouted warnings to them as he went along – the dragon was still dark, and he didn't want to risk it taking control of anyone else.

He followed the dragon for what felt like miles, always a step behind, although he wasn't sure that his presence was actually doing anything to help; all he could do was watch it and warn others to stay out of his way. He was beginning to feel desperate.

"Toothless," he said, holding up his hands, "plasma blast!"

The purple-white blast launched from his open palms and hit the dark silhouette directly, but it simply phased through and scorched the pavement beneath. He bit his lip, out of options – and then finally, finally, she showed up.

Night didn't think he had ever been happier to see the Deadly Nadder in his entire life.

His face lit up. "What took you so long?" he asked as she climbed down from the building next to them, landing gracefully on the pavement below.

"Why, did you miss me?" she shot back playfully, but when she turned to look at him, he could see that her expression was weary. There was a tiredness in her eyes that he had never seen on her before.

"Are you okay?" he asked with concern as she reached up and cupped her hands around the dragon that he had been fruitlessly chasing for much of the afternoon. "What happened? Where were you?"

"I'm fine," Nadder responded, "just... tired." She glanced up at him and smiled, but he could tell it was fake. "I had a secret mission I had to take care of – it took me a while to finish that and then get over here."

"What was the mission?"

"If I told you, it wouldn't be a secret," came her response. She released the dragon, now pure white in color, and the two of them watched it flutter up into the sky and then vanish from view. Nadder turned to face him, and their eyes met; she sighed. "Night, I - "

She was cut off by a sharp beep coming from Night's wristwatch. He glanced down at it automatically, although he knew what it meant. He had used his plasma blast, which meant only five minutes until he untransformed – four minutes, now.

"I have to go," he said, apologetically.

She nodded, and with some hesitation, he turned away. Four minutes later he managed to find a secluded spot to untransform, but he was barely paying attention to where he was going. His thoughts were on Nadder. He had never seen her like this before – something bad had happened, he could tell.

He wished he knew how to help.


	12. Wishing on Stars

It was a quiet, starry night, and the whole town of Berk was asleep.

Well, all but one person.

The Deadly Nadder was wide awake, walking silently along the tops of the city buildings, lost in thought. Her path was lit by the half-moon hanging low in the sky and the intermittent street lights along the quiet roads. Although she was transformed, there wasn't a dragonized villain in sight. There was nothing but the stars and the buildings and her.

Keeping her secret was proving to be exhausting. She had been keeping it up for nearly a year, defending against Drago almost every day at this point, and at the moment she wanted nothing more than to just tell the world who she was. She wanted to be Astrid _and_ Nadder, not one or the other. She didn't want to have to worry about making sure nobody knew who she was, or caught her transforming, or noticed Stormfly. She was happy to keep fighting Drago – she would never complain about keeping Berk safe – but she knew how much easier everything would be if she could just be herself. If she could live normally. If she could know who Night really was, and truly be friends with him. Or perhaps... more than friends?

She sighed, shaking the thought from her head. She knew Night didn't think of her that way, and she had accepted it. Still, she longed to know his identity.

She wondered if he wanted to know hers.

As if her thoughts had summoned him, she caught sight of a dark-clad figure perched sitting on the edge of a roof ahead. She headed towards him, leaping gracefully across the gap between two buildings and then approaching him silently. He turned to look as she appeared, and his expression shifted into one of quiet surprise.

"You're up late," Night Fury noted.

"Couldn't sleep," she said, sitting down next to him. For several long minutes neither of them spoke; they just enjoyed each other's company in the silence of the night. Far above, the stars shone town at them, hundreds of thousands of them dotting the sky. Nadder stared up at them for a long time. Finally, she spoke again. "Why are _you_ up so late?"

Night shrugged noncommittally. "It's nice. I like the night." He gave a small laugh. "Which makes sense, I guess, since it's my name."

"Not your real name, though," she said, quietly. He turned to look at her, his expression quizzical, and she sighed. "Don't you ever wish we didn't have to keep this a secret? Wouldn't it be so much easier if everyone know who we were? If... if _we_ knew who we were?" There was something very strange about it all, she thought, as she gazed into his eyes – he was utterly familiar to her, he was her partner and her friend, and yet he was a stranger. She didn't even know his name.

"It'd definitely be easier," Night admitted, after some thought, "but we can't. You know we can't. Nadder - " he shifted his position, turning to look at her – "if anyone knew who we were – if _Drago_ knew who we were..." He trailed off, staring out at the horizon. "What would stop him from using that as leverage against us? He'd target our families, our _friends_..." He paused again, and a few long moments of silence went by. "We can't risk it."

She gave a small sigh. "You're right," she said, "I know you are. It's just... it's hard sometimes."

"Tell me about it," he said wearily. "Besides," he added after a pause, with another small laugh, "I'm not sure you'd like the real me anyway."

She blinked. "Of course I would," she protested, playfully punching his shoulder. "I love this side of you, after all."

He stiffened, and too late she realized what she had just said.

"I - " she started, but what could she say? The words seem to hang in the air between them.

Finally, Night responded. "Nadder," he began, quietly and hesitantly, "I care about you, a lot. You know I do. You're – you're incredible, and you're one of my absolute best friends, but... but I don't..."

"I know," she said quickly, because she did but also because she didn't want to hear him say it out loud. "I know. It's fine, I understand."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," came her response, and she really meant it. She had known he didn't think of her the same way that she thought of him, and she had accepted it a long time ago. She hated that it still hurt. "Is there... someone _else_ , or...?"

His cheeks started to turn red, and she knew she had caught on to something.

"Aha," she said teasingly, "there _is!_ Tell me about them."

Night ducked his head to hide his face, which was now bright red, but she could still see his grin. "Just... there's a girl at my school," he mumbled. "I've known her for a few years."

"What's she like?"

He looked back at her uncertainly, perhaps to check if she was making fun of him, but she was being sincere.

"Tell me about her," she prompted, turning towards him.

"Well..." He scratched the back of his neck. "She's... brilliant. She's always the first to answer questions in class, and she always gets them right." His expression was dreamy. "She's confident, but never arrogant, you know? She just... she knows who she is. And she's..." He sighed, looking away again. "Sorry, I'm rambling again."

"No, no, you're fine," said Nadder. She didn't want to admit how much she loved when he talked about something he cared about – his gaze grew distant and he gestured wildly with his hands, animatedly rambling on and on. She could tell how much he cared about the classmate he was talking about.

There was a long break in the conversation, the silence broken only by the soft chirping of crickets and the occasional car in the distance. "She doesn't pay any attention to me, though," Night said finally. "I mean, she's nice to me and all, we're just not... close." He was staring out at the distant horizon again, seemingly lost in his thoughts.

"You should talk to her," Nadder encouraged.

"Don't want to bother her," came his muttered response, but she guessed there was more to it than that.

" _Night_ ," Nadder said, exasperated, "you're a great person, and anyone who can't see that isn't worth your time."

He looked back at her again, their eyes meeting, but this time she couldn't read his expression. "Thanks, Nadder," he said quietly, after a minute or two. "I... I really appreciate it."

She just smiled back, and the two lapsed into silence again.

Nadder's thoughts were bittersweet. She cared about Night, more than she could put into words – she hadn't realized quite how much until recently. But she could see how much he cared about this classmate of his, and she never wanted to make him uncomfortable or unhappy.

 _If she makes him that happy,_ Nadder decided, then and there, _then I'm happy for him._

She had no idea how long they stayed there, just enjoying each other's company. Hours, perhaps. It was nice to be around each other without fighting off some dragonized civilian, without working to defend Berk, without being watched by the whole town.

Right now it was just him and her and the stars, and she loved it.


	13. The Beginning of the End

Astrid was finding it hard to stay awake.

Her clock had read 4:53 AM by the time she snuck back home last night, and then she had been awake again only a few hours later to get ready for school. Halfway through her first class, she was resting her head on her elbows; by the second, she was struggling just to keep her eyes open. She was just dozing off when the bell rang, jerking her awake and signaling lunch. With a sigh, she slung her backpack over one shoulder and trudged outside to the courtyard.

Outside, it was a brilliantly beautiful day – the sky a deep blue, the sunshine warm upon her bare arms. She yawned, blinking in the unaccustomed brightness, and leaned against one of the tables. The courtyard was crowded with her schoolmates – it was still only April, and days this nice didn't come very often.

Astrid pulled her backpack off her shoulder and rummaged through it, careful not to disturb a sleeping Stormfly hidden inside one of the inner pockets. She pulled out a ham and cheese sandwich, slightly squashed, and zipped her back up again. Not caring enough to find a proper seat, she sat down on the edge of the wall she was leaning against.

She had unwrapped her sandwich and was about to take a bite when someone approached her. "Hey, Astrid," said Hiccup in greeting; she could see he was a little fidgety, like he always was when he talked to her. "I - Finn and I were wondering if you'd like to come sit with us for lunch? Heather's over here too and the twins are sitting nearby and I - we thought maybe..."

"No, thanks," she responded, before he had even finished. "I'm feeling pretty tired, I'd rather just eat by myself."

"Oh - yeah, okay, no problem," Hiccup said, too quickly. "See you later, then."

He hurried away, back to the table he and Finn were at. Astrid barely gave him a second look before starting into her sandwich; too late, she wondered if she had been rude. She hadn't intended to, but the lack of sleep meant she was a little grumpier than usual.

She glanced back up at him, once again sitting with Finn and the twins. She was too far away to read his expression, but she did see him glance quickly back at her; their eyes met for a brief second and then he quickly looked away again. Astrid chewed her lunch thoughtfully. It wasn't that she didn't like Hiccup - she had known him for several years now, and he seemed clever and nice enough - but she wasn't blind. She was all too aware of how nervous and stuttering and blushing he got when he tried to talk to her. It made any sort of interaction entirely awkward.

She took another bite of the sandwich.

* * *

"Is she coming over here?" Finn asked, not looking up from his laptop when Hiccup slid onto the seat next to him.

"Nah," Hiccup responded, trying to sound casual, "she's hanging out by herself today. I told her that was fine." He glanced back at her and their gazes met across the courtyard; he quickly looked away, his face feeling warm. _Why do I even try?_ he was thinking, hopelessly. She was never going to pay any attention to him.

 _You should talk to her_ , came his memory of Nadder's words last night.

 _Yeah, right_ , that worked, he thought back sarcastically. If Nadder could actually _meet_ Astrid, she would have realized that that advice was never going to work. Hiccup picked at his food, not really interested in it _. I give up,_ he decided. He and Astrid were barely even _friends_ \- what hope did he have of becoming anything more than that?

"What are you working on?" he asked Finn, to distract himself.

"Editing another video for the blog," Finn answered. "Usually I'd document the most recent fight but there hasn't been one in a while, so I'm editing together some old footage." Hiccup glanced over at Finn's computer, where he could just make out a shaky camera recording of him and Nadder fighting Monstrous Nightmare, the screen barely visible in the bright sunlight. "I mean, it's good that we haven't had Drago attack in a while, but I just love watching Night Fury and Deadly Nadder in action!"

It had been a week or two since the most recent dragonized one for them to fight, and Hiccup was definitely enjoying the time off, but there was a nagging apprehension in his mind that wouldn't leave him alone. There was no way Drago had retreated - Hiccup had the horrible feeling that he was just regrouping for a much larger attack.

He tried to shake off the feeling. He didn't have to think about Drago now - while he was at school, he didn't have to be Night Fury. He could just be Hiccup, ordinary and unnoticed, with normal problems. Right now, the sun was shining and the sky was blue, and the smell of summer was in the air. He could hear birds singing from not too far away, a peaceful melody.

And then, all at once, they stopped.

Hiccup frowned; their absence didn't seem to have been noticed by anyone else, but a strange feeling had crept over Hiccup. He turned around, about to say something to Finn - and then the ground beneath them trembled.

 _This_ did not go unnoticed. Nearly all conversations came to a halt, and there were stunned looks all around. "Earthquake?" Finn said, glancing around. "That's strange, we usually don't get -"

The ground shook again, stronger this time, and a few people shrieked. A thin rain of dust fell down from the ledges of the school building and the tops of the streetlamps outside the wall. Hiccup gripped the edge of the table, the strange feeling turning into anxiety.

Before he could say anything else, a voice rang out - deep and harsh, and horribly familiar.

"Deadly Nadder, Night Fury," came the voice, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once, "you have run out of time."

Finn gave a small squeak of fright. "Is that... is that Drago?" he asked, quietly, eyes wide.

Hiccup didn't answer out loud, but he knew for certain that it was.

"I have given you many chances to surrender your miraculouses," Drago went on; Hiccup looked around wildly but couldn't find the source of the voice. "Your power is too much to be wielded by mere children - give them to me so I can guard them. I only want what's best for the town."

 _Liar_ , thought Hiccup bitterly, half-standing now; he had to get away, he had to transform so he could fix this.

Drago's voice grew hard. "But I am willing to do whatever it takes. I am tired of waiting. I bring to you a new weapon, stronger than you can imagine. By tonight you will have surrendered... or Berk will burn to the ground."

Hiccup's heart sank.

This is what he had been afraid of.

Chaos erupted in the courtyard as soon as Drago finished speaking. Several people were shrieking, some of them running inside the school building for shelter and some sprinting down the streets towards their homes. The twins were looking up at the sky, and Finn's face was pale.

"What do we do?" he asked shakily, but Hiccup didn't answer; he was already running inside, weaving through the crowd and running through the school building. He made it to the front doors and ran down the steps, darting around the corner and then leaning against the wall, hidden from sight.

He unzipped his jacket and Toothless dashed out. " _Toothless-transform-me!"_ Hiccup whispered, the command coming out rushed and all as one word. Without hesitation dove towards him, and Hiccup closed his eyes as the green glow swept over him. When he opened them again, he was looking through the eyes of Night Fury.

Taking off down the street, he squinted up at the sky. There was no sign of Drago's _new weapon_ , no sound of his voice. And Nadder still hadn't arrived. The streets were nearly deserted – he guessed that everyone had taken shelter inside. It was eerily quiet.

A few minutes past as he explored the quiet city, looking suspiciously around every corner and every street, until finally, finally, a man stepped forward to meet him. He was on the tall-side, average-build, with short dark hair and neatly-groomed facial hair. His clothing was non-descript and gray in color, and Night could almost have mistaken him for an ordinary citizen if it weren't for the dark mask around the man's yellow eyes. He smiled upon seeing Night, who recognized him after a moment as Viggo Grimborn, a well-known businessman in the area. Night had never been fond of the man, but now so clearly under Drago's control, he liked him even less.

Although, Night had to admit, if this was Drago's newest, strongest weapon... he was a little underwhelmed. Viggo was several inches taller and quite a bit more muscular than Night, but he appeared mostly unchanged by Drago's control. He had no wings, no obvious powers – he didn't even carry a staff. Night approached him, slowly and cautiously.

"Ah, Night Fury," Viggo noted, sounding both pleased and ominous. "How wonderful of you to come."

"Let's get this over with," Night muttered to himself. And then, louder, he said, "You're not going to win, Drago. We've defeated all of your other weapons and we'll take this one down too."

Viggo chuckled. "I wouldn't be too sure of that," he said, and there was pure malice in his eyes. He took a small step backwards and closed his eyes, and slowly he began to change. It was almost undetectable at first – he seemed at first to be growing slightly taller, slightly bigger. The scaly gray of his clothing spread to cover his entire body; wings sprouted from his back, small at first but expanding rapidly; rough spikes grew along his back.

Then, in what felt like an eternity later but couldn't have been more than a few seconds, he had changed into something huge and monstrous, looming high above Night – bigger than the buildings surrounded them. Colorless scales, yellow eyes – six of them – leathery wings, four legs, and a giant clubbed tail. Night could only stare, open-mouthed, at the beast that had formed in front of him. There was nothing human about it at all, not anymore.

 _It's a dragon,_ Night thought, slightly hysterically. _An actual dragon_.

The beast turned its head to look down at Night, who suddenly felt very small and helpless indeed. It spoke, and its voice was a roar so powerful the ground trembled beneath Night's feet.

"I am _the Red Death!"_

Those massive jaws opened, and Night could just barely see something beginning to glow in the depths of the dragon's throat; before he could do anything – but what could he have done anyway? – it released a massive burst of flame, sweeping over the city street and scorching everything in its path.

 _Well,_ Night thought, _we're dead._


	14. History Repeats Itself

Nadder saw the Red Death blast flames from its gargantuan jaws just as she was turning the corner.

She tackled Night out of the way so he wasn't burnt to a crisp, and the two sheltered behind a post office box until the Red Death had closed its mouth again. The ground trembled as it took a step forward, massive claws cracking the asphalt; nearby, a streetlight crashed to the ground and shattered.

"It's _huge,_ " Night gasped.

"No kidding," Nadder panted back.

They peered out from their shelter at the beast again, who was staring down at them with malice in all six of its eyes. The building nearest to them had caught fire, and she could hear people screaming.

"We have to lure it away," she said, staring back up at it. "Get it out of the main part of the city so it can't hurt anyone. Then..." She trailed off, at a loss. What would they do – what _could_ they do? It had to have been at least a hundred feet tall, and three times as long.

It took another step forward, and Night and Nadder had to dive aside just to avoid being squashed. When she looked back up at it, a flash of something reflective caught her eye on the top of the monster's head. Something small, tied around the ridges of its skull, glowing with dark energy.

"Night," Nadder started.

"I see it," he answered. "You keep it distracted, I'll try to climb up there."

She blinked. "How are you – " but he was already up and running; avoiding the dragon's massive claws, he sprinted towards its tail, which was hanging low to the ground. It turned its head to watch him, a growl beginning deep in its throat, and Nadder sprang into action.

She got to her feet and ran out in front of it, waving her arms above her head. " _Hey!"_ she shouted up at the Red Death; its gaze shifted to her, and she stared at it defiantly. "You want my power?" she challenged. "Then _come get it!"_

Nadder took off running, sprinting as fast as she could down the street. The beast watched her for a second and then lumbered after her, its folded wings hitting the buildings on either side, every step sending signs and streetlights falling apart. There were several cars on the road, some of them still running but abandoned by their owners, and Nadder saw several of them crushed beneath the dragon's feet. She could see Night clinging to the beast's swinging tail, making his way up its spine; so far it didn't seem to have noticed him. She tried to keep it that way.

She skidded around a street corner and took off in a different direction; as she had hoped, the Red Death followed. It lunged forward with one paw and she was just barely able to avoid it, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she sprinted forward. She wove between signs and around corners in an attempt to keep the dragon distracted and confused. She didn't know how long she would be able to keep it up.

High above, she could see that Night had made it all the way to the dragon's neck and was carefully climbing up the spines, reaching for the item that was its source of power. He was so close now, she just had to keep it distracted a little more...

The Red Death turned its head to survey the city, partially crushed and burning, and the movement knocked Night down onto its back. Nadder could just barely hear his startled cry of "Whoa!" and by the way the dragon stiffened, she guessed it had heard him too.

It twisted its head around, but Night had rushed forward again to cling to its neck, out of reach of those horribly large teeth. Its eyes narrowed and it let out a roar of fury, but Night would not let go, and then it began to crouch lower to the ground. Nadder had stopped running and now she could only stare at the beast as it unfolded its massive, leathery wings. With several powerful strokes that sent gusts of wind howling over the streets, the dragon took flight.

It was surprisingly quick for something so massive. It roared again and tossed its head like a horse, and Nadder's heart seemed to stop when she saw a tiny figure falling from the monster's head. No, not falling, she realized a moment later – Night was _gliding,_ his arms spread out and the wingsuit carrying him shakily through the air. She could have laughed. She hadn't thought she would ever be able to see his flight suit.

But he wasn't out of danger.

The Red Death was turning away from Night, and its massive clubbed tail was swinging towards him. With a stab of absolute horror, she watched it collide with Night and send him plummeting down again and out of view.

For a moment or two Nadder could only stand there, shaking and more afraid than she had ever felt in her life, although she would never have admitted it. When she came to her senses again she took off sprinting in the direction the Red Death had flown, even though she didn't have a hope of catching up with it.

"Hey!" she shouted up at it, waving her arms again in an attempt to catch its attention. "I'm down here! Come and get me!"

In response, the dragon roared again, a powerful sound of pure fury that seemed to shake the ground. It let loose another stream of fire across the ground; Nadder dove and rolled out of the way to avoid being hit directly with the flames. Anything flammable along the street instantly ignited, and the air grew thick with smoke. Nadder coughed, peering up at the Red Death. There was a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, and she realized her hands were trembling.

This truly was Drago's strongest weapon yet. Nadder didn't know how they would be able to beat it. She didn't know _if_ they would be able to beat it. She was _afraid_. For Night, for the whole city, for herself.

Part of her was wondering if maybe this was the end.

* * *

Night had been mere feet from the Red Death's power item when it had noticed him.

He lunged forward to cling to the dragon's neck just as it twisted around, trying to catch him and pull him off, but he was just out of its reach. He began climbing up the spines on its neck again, scrambling upwards until he had reached its head.

Then the giant body beneath him seemed to tremble, and he crouched down to regain his balance as the dragon lowered its head, hunching its massive shoulders. From its sides, two massive _somethings_ unfurled – _wings,_ Night realized a moment later, with a stab of fear – and then the Red Death beat them violently and lifted off the ground.

The force of it was so great that Night was nearly flattened against the dragon's head; they rose into the air so quickly that his stomach lurched. He struggled back to his feet once he was able to, looking around wildly at the city, sprawled out below him. _This thing can fly,_ he thought, almost hysterically. If he had had any doubts before, they were now gone entirely: he knew for certain that this was the most dangerous opponent he and Nadder had ever faced.

The Red Death gave a powerful roar that seemed to echo over the whole land and then it shook its head sharply. Night lost his balance and tumbled to the side; his hands scrabbled at the dragon's rough scales but he couldn't get a grip. With a sharp cry of "Whoa!" he found himself falling off the Red Death's great head.

Spinning through the air, he somehow managed to reach to his sides and snap open his wingsuit, stopping his freefall and sending him gliding forward. The city was still a dizzying height below him, but that wasn't his biggest problem at the moment. The Red Death was turning around, flying back in the direction it had come, and its thick, spiked tail was swinging towards Night. He tried to angle himself to the side to get out of the way, but he had almost no control over the wingsuit – the boy collided with the Red Death's powerful tail and then he saw and heard no more.

When he came to his senses, thankfully only a moment or two later, he was dimly aware that he was falling - _do something!_ his brain was screaming, but his limbs were sluggish to respond. His half-closed eyes were fixed on the sky above him, still brilliantly blue, the Red Death silhouetted against it, growing smaller and smaller as Night grew closer to the ground.

He blinked. _The ground._ Suddenly he was very much aware that he was going to plummet to his death if he didn't do something, and soon. He forced himself to flip over and spread his arms, so that the wingsuit caught the air again and he shot unsteadily forward, still incredibly fast but at least not straight down anymore. Night glided shakily towards the top of the nearest building, but as always he had little control over which direction he went in; he was aiming for the rooftop, but he realized too late that he was losing altitude too quickly to make it.

He braced for impact, shutting his eyes, but he still crashed through the window with enough force to knock the breath out of him. He hit the floor with a thump and slid a few yards across the smooth floor before coming to a stop.

For several minutes, Night could only lie there, breathing heavily and staring at the ceiling. Something wet dripped down the side of his face, and he realized he was bleeding, probably caused by the hundreds of glass shards that lay all around him from the broken window. He blinked a few times, slowly, and then pushed himself to his feet, his aching body protesting as he did so. He stumbled forward, but as soon as he had taken a single step he nearly collapsed again; he was disoriented and dizzy, his vision swimming disconcertingly before his eyes, but outside the abandoned office building he could hear the distant shrieks of civilians, the roar of the Red Death, the crackling of flames. There was no time for hesitating – the whole city was in danger. He had to go back out there and fight.

Night took a deep breath, spreading his wingsuit – thankfully it hadn't been damaged in the crash, aside from a few small tears that wouldn't affect his flight – and preparing to jump, but before he could do anything, a strange yet familiar feeling came over him. It started at his toes and spread up his body to the top of his head, taking only a moment, but he knew instantly that something had changed. He stared down at his feet – no, _foot._ One sneaker and one prosthetic. His gaze traveled up his clothing and then he ran his hands though his hair with sudden realization.

He had been un-transformed.

"What…?" he managed to get out as Toothless materialized before him and darted up to hover in front of him. The little spirit's face was uncharacteristically fearful, his eyes wide.

"Are you okay?" Toothless asked anxiously. "Are you hurt?"

Night – _Hiccup,_ that is – stared uncomprehendingly at him. "What did you do that for?" he asked once he had found his voice.

"Are you hurt?" Toothless repeated, almost urgently.

Hiccup blinked once more. "No, I'm fine. Are you? Is something wrong? Why did you un-transform me?"

Toothless didn't answer; he darted around Hiccup, looking him over, checking to see if he really was okay. He let out a small concerned noise as he noticed the trickle of blood running down the side of the boy's head.

Outside, Hiccup heard the Red Death roar again, a low, powerful sound that seemed to shake the ground. "I have to get back out there," he said. "Toothless, _transform me_!"

"No."

The answer came quietly, but firmly. Hiccup turned around to face him again, his expression questioning. "…no?" he repeated, unsure of what to do. Toothless had never refused him so directly before. "Toothless –"

"It's too dangerous!" Toothless interrupted frantically.

Hiccup laughed. "Of course it's dangerous," he said, shifting his weight from foot to foot – foot to prosthetic, that is. "It's _always_ been dangerous! But it's my _job_ to fight the dragons that attack, to keep people safe – "

Toothless didn't seem to be listening. He pushed against Hiccup, trying to herd him back deeper into the building, with very little success. "Come on, come on," he muttered, mostly to himself. "I'll get you somewhere safe."

"No," Hiccup protested, turning and ducking past him. "You have to let me transform – the city needs Night Fury!"

"Forget about them, they'll be _fine_ – "

"And let Nadder fight the Red Death all on her own? Toothless, you –"

"I can't lose you too!" Toothless cried, and Hiccup came to a halt.

Slowly, he turned around to face him again. The spirit's wings were drooping, his expression anguished. It was a while before either of them spoke, and then Toothless sighed.

"You weren't the first person to have the Night Fury miraculous," he said quietly, Hiccup blinked but said nothing. After another short pause, Toothless continued. "Once, oh . . . over a hundred years ago now, there was a different town in danger, always being attacked by dragons. As such, Stormfly and I were sent out to find two new heroes, two who would protect the city and its inhabitants as the Night Fury and the Deadly Nadder. The one I chose was young, even younger than you, but I knew he had what it took to be a hero – bravery, determination, selflessness. His name . . . " Toothless sighed, as if the memory was painful. "His name was Hickory Haddock – the Second."

Hiccup's eyes widened, but still he stayed quiet.

"For years, he and his partner fearlessly defended the city," Toothless went on, something like wistfulness in his voice. "They were unstoppable together. "But then, one day . . ." He trailed off, his gaze lowering to the floor.

Hiccup's mouth was dry. "What . . . what happened?" he breathed.

"Tragedy," Toothless whispered. "One day, there was a dragon that was bigger and stronger and smarter than anything the two had ever faced, not unlike the Red Death. It – it called itself Furious. The one who was dragonized was Hickory's own father." He paused again, and Hiccup could only stare, captivated by the story, all else gone from his mind. "He and Nadder fought bravely, as they always did. They managed to defeat Furious, so thoroughly that the dragon attacks were stopped entirely, but . . . but Hickory was badly wounded. The dragon's claws had dug into his stomach.

"I didn't realize at first. When he could no longer stand and he collapsed on the ground, I un-transformed him – it meant everyone would discover his identity, but I didn't care. I just wanted to save him . . . but I wasn't quick enough. It was too late." Toothless grew very quiet indeed. "Hickory died that day, saving the town from a dragon attack. Nadder took his miraculous to keep it from falling into the wrong hands, but she never used it. She never used her own again either. She couldn't work without him, just as he couldn't work without her. That was the last time the Deadly Nadder and the Night Fury were seen.

"I couldn't save Hickory the Second." He lifted his gaze, staring straight at Hiccup. "But I can save you. I can keep you safe."

Hiccup didn't know how to respond. Poor Toothless looked so desperate. Finally, he found the words. "Toothless . . . I know you're worried. I know you're scared. Honestly, I'm scared too." He chuckled quietly. "I can't say I'm particularly excited to go fight a dragon the size of a mountain . . . but someone has to." He met Toothless's eyes, green on green. "If I don't fight, people could die. Innocent people, who are even more scared than we are. They have no idea what's going on. They have no idea how to fight this thing. Someone has to help them. Nadder and I have to help them." He managed a small smile. "I'll be fine, Toothless. Everything will be okay. But I can't sit here in safety while the whole town is in danger. I have to get back out there. The Night Fury has to get back out there."

Toothless didn't say anything for a few moments; then he let out a long breath. "When I was trying to find the next Night Fury," he said, "I picked you for the traits I saw in you, the ones crucial to all heroes, bravery and selfless and a refusal to give up, no matter what happened. Later, when I found out you were related to my Hickory, and sharing his name as well – albeit with a ridiculous nickname – I . . ." He paused. "I thought fate was giving me a second chance. A chance to fix what had happened to the last Night Fury. I thought it meant I had to protect you . . . but now I know that's not entirely true. It's _our_ job to protect Berk, you're right. It's just . . . I don't want to lose you, Hiccup."

"You won't," Hiccup promised. "Everything will be okay." The spell of Toothless's story seemed to have broken, and once again Hiccup could hear the battle raging outside. He looked out through the shattered window, at the sprawling city dotted with flames, at the speck in the sky that was the Red Death, high above them. "Now . . . you ready?"

"Of course," came Toothless's response. Hiccup took a deep breath.

"Toothless, _transform me!_ "


	15. Dragon's Deception

The Deadly Nadder was not having a good day.

The Red Death was still in the air, and Night was still missing. She was sprinting through the streets again, which were by now abandoned – the majority of the citizens had fled to the outskirts of the city. The dragon released another blast of flame, and she heard it hit the ground somewhere up ahead with the popping of burning wood and cracking pavement.

She was beginning to feel desperate.

She was terrified for Night, too. She had seen him hit by the Red Death's tail, had seen him plummet out of the sky – it had been nearly twenty minutes since then, and she hadn't seen him at all. If he was safe, why hadn't he met up with her again yet? Her mind was reeling with the worst possibilities. He had his wingsuit, but if the Red Death had knocked him out, he would have been unable to save himself... and even if he had managed to get out of that safely, he was on his own, and the Red Death's flames were hitting the city left and right. _What if he..._ Nadder couldn't finish the thought.

Instead, she focused on running, even though legs seemed to scream in protest. She had no idea how she was going to get up to the Red Death, or how she would be able to grab its item to take it down, but she knew she had to do something. She couldn't stand just sitting around and waiting.

Movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention, and she noticed someone coming towards her. "Get back to shelter," she started to say, and then she saw who it was. Her words died on her lips.

"Night," she whispered, and then she was running towards him without consciously deciding to do so. She threw her arms around him in a tight hug before pulling back again to punch him in the shoulder.

" _Ow_!" he protested. "Why would you _do_ that?"

"I thought you were _dead_ ," she said, angry because she was afraid, "or hurt, or—" She broke off to inspect him. " _Are_ you hurt?"

"I'm fine," he assured her, but she didn't miss the way he winced slightly when he shifted from foot to foot. There was a thin trickle of blood running down his check from a cut on his temple. "What's our next move?"

Nadder looked up at the Red Death again. "I..." She was at a loss. "I don't know, Night." She hoped her voice didn't betray the hopelessness she was feeling. "We have to get it back on the ground somehow – we can't do anything when it's in the air."

"Could we get it back into human form?" Night wondered aloud.

"That would make it a lot easier," she said, "but how?"

Night stared at the hovering dragon for a few moments, and then his eyes lit up. "I have a plan."

"Something clever?"

He bit his lip. "Uh... it's clever- _ish._ "

* * *

Night clung to the rickety ladder, every little breeze threatening to knock it down. "Okay, Drago!" he shouted over the rushing wind caused by the Red Death's wingbeats. "You're right, I can't do this anymore! You win!"

His words caught the Red Death's attention, and its gaze focused on him. It grew lower to the ground and hovered there. "What is this...?" it rumbled.

"A surrender," Night yelled back desperately. "It's the only way to keep Berk safe from you." He held up his left arm, the one with his wristwatch strapped around his wrist. "Take it, I don't care," he said, his expression distraught. "Just leave everyone alone."

The Red Death seemed to consider this for a moment. Night held his breath. _Please work, please work..._

"Bring them to me," the dragon said in a low voice.

"I can't reach you," Night said. He was perched near the top of the shaky ladder of a radio antenna, on the tallest building in the city. The streets were dizzyingly far below. "Come down to the roof."

Those six eyes narrowed. "I will not fit."

"Change back to human again, then," he suggested. "Please – the city can't take any more of your fire or your destruction." He tried to sound hopeless, which was very close to how he was actually feeling. "I surrender."

Another pause. "What is stopping me," the dragon rumbled finally, "from simply burning this whole building to the ground and taking your miraculouses from the ashes?"

"It only comes off if I allow it to," he lied, thinking quickly. "It's part of the magic. If you kill me, you'll never get it."

A minute or two of silence went by, but to Night it seemed an eternity. _Come on,_ he thought, _come on..._ "Please," he added out loud. "I'll do anything to keep Berk safe."

"Where is your partner?" it growled.

Night took a deep breath. "She refused to give up," he told the dragon. "She doesn't realize how powerful you are."

"Then she is a fool," said the dragon darkly.

"I tried to convince her," Night added, "but she wouldn't listen. Besides, she'd never be able to defeat you without me... and I surrender." He met the Red Death's eyes, all six of them focused on Night. "Once you take mine, it will be easy to take hers. I'll help you, if it means keeping Berk safe."

The Red Death gave a low, considering growl. It was dangerously low to the ground now, each beat of its massive wings threatening to hit the tops of the buildings. Slowly Night began climbing back down the ladder, his gaze never leaving the Red Death. He made it back down to the roof and backed up as far as he could, leaving it wide open for the Red Death to land upon.

The seconds seemed to tick by agonizingly slowly until finally, finally, the Red Death relented. It lowered itself down and then folded back its wings, landing on the rooftop. The building creaked and swayed unsteadily with the sudden, massive weight of the dragon, and Night crouched low just to keep his balance. For one moment, it seemed like the building would give out from underneath them, and then the Red Death ducked its head and began shifting back.

It began slowly, barely noticeably, and then all at once. The wings and tail retracted, the spines vanishing; six eyes shifted back into two, and its posture turned bipedal. In only a moment the Red Death had once again become a masked man, standing tall and upright and staring at Night through yellow eyes.

He held out his hand. "Hand it over," he demanded, his voice low.

Night reached for it with his right hand, fiddling with the strap that kept it on. The Red Death gave a growl of impatience, taking a step forward, but before he could reach Night, _something_ sprang at him and tackled him from the side.

Or some _one_ , to be more precise.

While the Red Death may have been bigger and stronger than either of them, even in human form, the Deadly Nadder had the element of surprise on her side. The Red Death was knocked to the ground with a startled cry, and Nadder grabbed his pendant. She pulled on it, but the chain wouldn't break; after a moment, when the Red Death had gotten over his surprise, he let out a howl of fury and knocked her backwards. She landed on her feet and then immediately lunged back at him for a second attack, and this time Night joined her.

"Stormfly, spine shot!" he heard Nadder command, and he saw the sharp spikes materialize and fling towards the Red Death. Several caught on his clothing and one sank into his shoulder; he pulled it out with with a howl of pain, but kept fighting anyway. Night reached for his pendant as Nadder tackled him again, and the three went down in a heap.

The Red Death pushed himself to his feet with enough force to shove both Night and Nadder backwards across the rooftop. His eyes were narrowed with anger as the two approached him again, slowly backing him up to the edge of the rooftop.

"Give it up," Nadder snarled, "it's two against one."

"You won't win," Night added.

The Red Death looked at them and then, disconcertingly, he grinned. "I wouldn't be sure of that." He turned away from them and darted forward, giving a powerful leap off the building and into the open air. Night reached out automatically as the man began to fall, as if he had any chance of catching him anyway, but the Red Death was out of his reach. Both heroes scrambled to the ledge to look down just as there was a _whoosh_ of air and the Red Death, in full dragon form again, shot up into the sky.

"How stupid do you think I am?" the monster roared. "Did you think that would work?"

"It kinda did - at least we got it here," Night muttered under his breath. The Red Death seemed to have heard this.

"No," it growled maliciously, "I have you. Both of you in the same place, cornered. Mine for the taking." Before either of them could do anything, it shot downwards and snatched Night and Nadder, one in each hand, and took to the sky again.

The ground dropped out from underneath them, dizzyingly quick. Night had to force himself to look up at the dragon instead of down at the city far, far below. Their flight was a short one, however - the dragon only flapped a few blocks away before dropping them both on the ground, so harshly that Night's vision swam.

He heard a clang of metal somewhere above them, and dazed, it took him a moment to realize what had happened. The Red Death had dropped them into some sort of cage and then closed the top. Night stumbled to his feet, somewhat dizzily, and grabbed the bars. Beside him, he heard Nadder groan and then also get to her feet.

The Red Death had landed in an open area beside them, and Night could see it beginning to shift back to human. Night pulled on the cage bars, which were made of thick iron, too tightly placed to squeeze between them. "Toothless, plasma blast!" he commanded. The purple-white blast of fire exploded from his outstretched palms, hitting the bars at point-blank range.

They held solid. Usually his blasts were enough to melt and burn anything they hit, but this one had no effect on the cage bars. He pulled on them again, uselessly.

"Care to surrender yet?" the Red Death called calmly, striding up to them in human form.

"Not a chance," Nadder growled. The Red Death simply grinned, his expression smug.

"Oh, you will," he assured them. "Sooner or later you'll have to. Drago's instructions were clear. I'm the only one who can open that cage–" He held up a single key dangling from a chain. "—and I'll only let you out when you hand over your miraculouses."

"That won't happen," Night told him, clinging tightly to the iron bars.

The Red Death shrugged. "Then Berk will burn to the ground." Night and Nadder's expressions were ones of outraged horror, but the dragonized one turned away. "I'll give you some time to think about it."

He shifted into dragon form again, quicker and easier this time, and then took off with a powerful flap of those massive wings. Night watched the beast go, beginning to feel desperate again.

"What do we do now?" Night started to say, but he was interrupted by a sharp beep; it took him a moment to realize it had come from Nadder's bracelet, her miraculous. Both of them stared at it for a moment before realization dawned, and a cold dread settled in the pit of his stomach.

They had both used their powers – her spine shot and his plasma blast – which meant that their timers were running out.

They had four minutes until their transformations vanished.

And they were trapped.


	16. Identity

Night's watch gave a sharp beep only a few moments later, signaling four minutes for him as well. Nadder was running her hands over the bars, trying to pry out the bolts that held the cage together, reaching for the chain that kept the cage locked, but nothing she did was having any effect.

Their eyes met for one desperate, hopeless second, and she knew he was thinking the same thing she was.

They weren't going to get out of this in time.

Lying on the ground some distance away, Nadder could see the keys to the cage lying carelessly on the ground, well out of their reach. It almost seemed to be taunting them. Drago and the Red Death were so confident, so _sure_ that the two of them would not be able to escape.

Her miraculous beeped again – _three minutes_ – and she banged furiously on the bars. They had to find a way out. They had to take down the Red Death – they had to take down Drago. They had to. Berk was in danger and it was their job to protect the citizens, to keep the town safe. She looked back at the city, distraught; many buildings were collapsed or in flames, and she could only hope that all of the civilians had made it out safely. She could see the faint outline of the Red Death, flying high, high above.

They had failed.

Another beep caught her attention, and she looked down at her bracelet. "Two minutes," she reported, with rising panic.

Night was still inspecting the bars, running his hands over each one. "They're impenetrable," he said hollowly. "Not much can stand up to a plasma blast . . . there's no way we're going to be able to break them, and they're too strong to bend."

Nadder looked around for something, anything, that would help. Behind her, she heard Night's watch beep as well. _Two minutes._ There was no way to get between the bars, no way to break them, no way to move the cage. They were trapped.

Nadder's bracelet beeped again. "One minute," she whispered. Night turned to look at her, and she could see the helpless expression on his face that likely mirrored her own. This was it. The cage was too small for them to hide from each other – there was no escaping it. Night's watch beeped one last time, which meant that she only had about thirty seconds now.

Night seemed to realize this at the same time. "Nadder . . ." he began hesitantly. "We can't let this change us, okay? We're still the same people, whether we know each other's identity or not. I don't want - "

"Night," she interrupted gently. "It'll be fine." She managed a small smile, and after a moment he smiled shakily back. She opened her mouth to say something else – but then it began.

Nadder felt the familiar magic begin at her feet and swirl up her whole body; she closed her eyes as it swept over her head and then vanished. She felt an exhausted Stormfly land on her shoulder, and then she opened her eyes.

Night had taken a step back, his eyes wide, staring at her. "A-astrid?" he whispered breathlessly.

She blinked, surprised. _He knows me?_ He stared at her, unable to speak, until his own un-transformation happened. She saw him close his eyes as the circle of green magic swept over him, ruffling his hair; a spirit with black scales and little wings hovered up and landed on the top of Night's head to rest.

Slowly, slowly, her gaze swept up him, starting at his feet – _no. Foot._ One dirt-stained sneaker, one gleaming metal prosthetic. Up his legs and torso – a simple brown sweater vest – and then up to his face. Freckled cheeks, green eyes, rectangular black glasses, which he adjusted nervously. She knew him. She had known him for years.

"…hey," said Hickory Haddock the Third, rather awkwardly.

For several long moments, the two could only stare at each other. Astrid's thoughts had come to a standstill as she tried to process everything. After quite a while, he spoke, his words coming out in a nervous rush.

"Please don't be disappointed," he said hurriedly, his back against the bars of the cage as if he was afraid of her. "I know this probably isn't like what you were hoping and I didn't want to tell you but I guess..." He ran his hands through his hair and then looked up at her again. "Oh gosh, it's... it's _you._ I can't believe..." He trailed off again, and for several long moments they could only stare at each other, mouths partially open, trying to take it in.

For months she had wondered who the Night Fury was behind the mask. She had wanted to know so badly... and now she knew. He was there, sitting right in front of her, staring back at her.

"It's _you_ ," she said incredulously, and somehow it all made sense. "I – we're in so many of the same classes, I see you _every_ _day._ "

Night – no, _Hiccup_ – gave a small nervous laugh, and then suddenly they were both laughing. It was like all the pieces had fallen into place so they could see the big picture, and neither of them could figure out how they hadn't seen it before. She couldn't imagine Night Fury being anyone else.

Something occurred to her suddenly. "Yesterday, on the rooftop," she started, "and you said there was _someone else_..."

Hiccup blinked, and then his face began to turn red with sudden realization. He buried his face in his arms. "Oh gosh," she heard his muffled voice, "it was you the whole time." He lifted his head again and she could see that he was grinning. "You gave me advice on how to talk to _you_."

The thought was so absurd that they couldn't help but burst into laughter again, not mockingly but with genuine amusement. All thoughts of the Red Death and Drago were gone from their minds – at the moment, all they could think about was each other.

"You're Night Fury," Astrid said aloud, just because it felt good to finally _know._

"And you're Nadder," he responded with awe. Their eyes met, which somehow felt so familiar and yet so strange at the same time.

A roar in the distance brought them both back to reality. Hiccup blinked and looked through the cage bars, back at the city in the distance. "It's coming back," he said anxiously, and then his face paled. "Oh, no – it's gonna see us like this. _Drago's_ going to see us like this." He pulled Toothless down from his head, cradling him gently. "Come on, bud, we have to transform."

"That won't do us any good – we're still stuck in here," Astrid pointed out, softly stroking Stormfly's horns. She glanced back outside the cage, and a thought occurred to her. "Stormfly," she said, straightening up, "you'll fit through the bars."

"She can get us the keys," Hiccup realized, eyes widening.

Stormfly gave a small nod, lifting off Astrid's shoulder. Her flight was a little shaky – she seemed exhausted – but she fit easily through the cage bars and landed upon the keys lying exposed on the ground not too far away. She scooped them up and carried them back over to Astrid, dropping them in her lap. Astrid quickly scooped them up and got to her feet, reaching for the lock that kept the cage closed. It took a few moments, but she was able to fit the key into the lock, and with a satisfying _click_ it came undone. She shoved the door open and stumbled outside.

The Red Death roared again, and she could see it was getting closer. "Stormfly, transform me," she said; she closed her eyes as the swirl of blue swept across her body. When she opened her eyes again, Hiccup was staring at her. She met his gaze, and he glanced away.

"Sorry," he mumbled, "it's just..." He gave another small laugh, running his hands through his hair. "It's just... strange."

"I know what you mean," she said, the corner of her mouth twitching up into a smile as she looked down at him. "Come on, we've got a job to do."

He grinned, and then his gaze shifted back to his little dragon. "Toothless, transform me," he said, and then the glow swept over him as well. In another moment, Hiccup had vanished, and Night Fury had taken his place.

He was right. It _was_ strange.

But they had no time to think about it now.

The Red Death was folding back its wings and diving down towards them; it landed on the ground so hard that the earth seemed to tremble. It regarded both of them with narrowed eyes, and both Night and Nadder took a step backwards.

"You're free," it noted, but it didn't sound concerned. "This doesn't mean you've won."

"We have to come up with a plan," Nadder whispered.

"We have to get away first," said Night, keeping his eyes on the Red Death. "Find somewhere to regroup, and then we can plan."

"This fruitless battle is tiring," the dragon growled. "You will not win. You _cannot_ win." The situation did indeed seen dire, with the Red Death towering hundreds of feet above them, its massive shadow cast over the land.

It gave a warning growl, and Nadder knew what was coming before it happened.

"Run!" she shouted, and she and Night sprinted back towards the city as the Red Death unleashed a stream of burning flames. Nadder could feel the heat of the flames at her heels, but they made it to the relative safety of the city streets; by now, the city seemed entirely deserted.

They could hear the Red Death lifting up off of the ground. "Cowards!" it roared, overcome with anger. "Face me! You cannot hide forever."

"We need it in human form again," Night said, panting. "There's no way we'll be able to take it down like that."

Nadder agreed, but she had no idea how they would be able to do that. She glanced back at him, at his worried expression, and she was struck with a sudden amusement. It was strange – their dynamic felt so familiar and yet so strange all at once. She knew Night, but only now did she know who he was. She knew his real name. He glanced over at her, apparently catching her staring at him, and she turned her gaze back to the sky.

The dragon's furious roars echoed against the buildings around them; for several long moments, all they could do was wait out the monster's anger.

Finally, the roars subsided. A voice reached them, not the gruff depth of the Red Death but more gentle, more human. "Come on out," it called. "I'm tired of fighting. You must be too. We're getting nowhere. Come meet me, and perhaps we can come to an agreement? I promise no harm will come to you."

"It's a trap," said Nadder instantly.

"Of course it's a trap," Night responded, "but what choice so we have? He's right - we can't keep running forever." He sighed.

Nadder bit her lip, knowing he was right. "Okay," she said. "Let's do it."

Together, Night and Nadder turned to face the monster.


	17. All's Well

Night crept along the rooftop, each step silent. He cast a glance off the edge down to the two figures facing off in the street, one dressed in blue and the other in gray.

The Red Death was regarding Nadder warily. "You are alone," he noted. "Where is the Night Fury?"

"We got separated," she answered, looking every bit as wary. Her posture was defensive, and even from his height, Night could see her eyes narrow. "But I'm sure he'll be here soon enough."

That was his cue – Night leapt from the rooftop, freefalling for a second before snapping his wingsuit open and leading into a shaky glide. He angled himself to catch the wind and then tackled the human Red Death from behind. He fell to the ground with a short cry of surprise, and Nadder leapt forward.

"Stormfly," she began, but the Red Death, even in human form, was stronger and faster than they had anticipated.

The dragonized one shoved Night off and leapt to his feet before grabbing him again. All at once he had Night held in a chokehold, one arm around his neck.

"Don't move," the Red Death growled to Nadder, "or I'll snap his neck."

Nadder froze, the command dying on her lips.

They had reached a stalemate, and for a long moment, none of them moved. Night tried to squirm free, but the Red Death tightened his grip, pushing his forearm against Night's neck so his breath caught in his throat. He could feel the monster's strength, and he knew he wouldn't hesitate.

"Now," said the Red Death, calmly and pleasantly, as if he hadn't just threatened to murder a teenager, "I'd like your miraculous, if you wouldn't mind."

Nadder hesitated, her expression angry but her eyes frightened. Her fists were clenched at her side.

"I'm _waiting,_ " said the Red Death, holding Night tighter still; his vision grew dark around the edges.

Slowly, slowly, Nadder reached for her bracelet.

"Don't!" Night managed to choke out; he tried to shake his head, but he could barely move it. His hands were still free, though. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, he reached for something strapped to his leg. He pulled it off silently and fiddled with the button. The Red Death seemed to notice the movement, for he loosened his grip as he looked down, and that was all Night needed.

He hit the button on the side of his contraption, and a collapsible metal framework slid out; with the flick of a switch, the blade caught fire.

The Red Death jerked backwards in surprise, and Night broke free. He swung the flaming weapon, burning brightly, and it just barely nicked the edge of the Red Death's scaly armor.

The dragonized one bellowed with anger. "Toothless, plasma blast!" Night shouted, and the resulting blue-white flames hit the Red Death in the chest. He stumbled backwards, hit but not hurt, and glared at the two heroes with the utmost rage; before he could shift back into dragon form, Nadder acted.

"Stormfly, _spine shot_!"

The razor-like spikes nicked the Red Death's armor with enough force to knock him down and pin him to the ground. Nadder lunged forward. Her hand closed around the pendant on the back of the Red Death's neck, and with one strong tug the chain holding it on snapped; finally, finally, the item was in Nadder's hands.

Night held back the Red Death, who was struggling to get to his feet, as Nadder threw the item to the ground and crushed it beneath her foot.

The Red Death shuddered and collapsed, and the dark silhouette of a large dragon flapped heavily up from the shattered remains. Before it could get away, Nadder reached up and caught it, and then it was all over.

The silhouette became pure white and flapped away as the Red Death's armor and mask faded away, until what had once been a threatening monster was just a confused and exhausted man.

Night let out a long breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

"It's... over," he said, slowly.

"We won," Nadder replied softly, and then her face split into a grin. "Night, _we won!_ " She leapt forward and hugged him, laughing, and he couldn't keep himself from grinning as well.

When she had released him, her gaze fell on his weapon, still burning bright in his hand, and then she looked back up at him. "A flaming sword," she said, shaking her head. "Didn't I specifically tell you _not_ to make a flaming sword?"

"Did you?" Night scratched the back of his neck, but he was still smiling. "Ah, well – it worked, didn't it? And it looks _so cool!"_

Behind them, Viggo groaned, and then they both moved to help him stand. As always, the former dragonized one was not hurt, but was thoroughly confused. Night and Nadder helped him get to his feet and begin walking, and then the two of them were alone.

Their eyes met, green on yellow. His watch beeped, but he didn't even bother looking down at it. It didn't matter – he had no need to get away, to hide. He closed his eyes as the light swept over him; his mask and tail and suit faded away, and when he opened his eyes again he was just Hiccup. Toothless, exhausted from two transformations so close to each other, collapsed in his arms. Hiccup stroked him gently and then looked back up at Nadder.

"So," he said, but he had no idea what else to say.

"So," she echoed, but she didn't say any more. For a few moments more they just looked at each other, Hiccup and the Deadly Nadder, and then her own untransformation began. He saw Stormfly fly up to perch on her shoulder, and then it was just Hiccup and Astrid.

No suits, no powers, no masks – just two teenagers and two little dragon spirits.

The city was still quiet, but Hiccup knew that the citizens would start to return now that the danger was over. Already he could hear the sound of distant voices. His gaze shifted back to Astrid.

"So," he tried again. "I... I guess things are going to be different now, huh?"

"Yeah," she said, with a small laugh. "But... different doesn't mean _bad._ "

She smiled at him and their eyes met again – this time green on blue. He grinned back and held out his hand, and she shook it. It was several long moments before they let go.

"I should go find my family," Astrid said, eventually. "I'll see you later, Night Fury." Her tone was somewhat playful, and she was still smiling.

"Goodbye, Nadder," he answered, and the two shared one last glance before she turned and headed off.

Hiccup watched her go, feeling a little dazed. He must have still been grinning, for Toothless laughed at him.

" _Ooh,_ " he said mischievously, "someone's in _looooove_."

"Oh, shut up." Hiccup shoved him half-heartedly, and Toothless only grinned and settled back down on his shoulder. Hiccup began walking as well, heading home, his thoughts on the day's events.

It had been the longest and hardest battle they had ever fought, and Hiccup ached all over – he felt like he could sleep for a week, and Toothless appeared the same. Yet somehow, he felt almost giddy. _Astrid._ _She's Astrid._ He had been so afraid of anyone finding out his identity, of anyone making the connection between himself and Night Fury, and yet at the moment he felt more relieved than anything. It was as if a weight had lifted off his shoulder; it felt so good to share his secret instead of keeping it all on his own. No more worrying about timers running out, no more skirting awkwardly around conversations to avoid giving himself away, no more wondering who was behind the mask. It wasn't his secret anymore – _it's_ our _secret,_ he thought.

He would still have to keep it from everyone else, but to have someone who knows, to have someone else with a secret of her own... he didn't feel alone anymore.

 _Yeah, things are going to change_ , he thought as he made his way down the quiet streets, the buildings and cars illuminated by the setting sun, _but I think this change is for the better._


	18. Epilogue

Hiccup Haddock had been through a lot over the short life.

Fighting villains, rescuing people, defending the town – _that_ he could handle. But this... this was the most nerve-wracking experience he'd had so far.

His first date with Astrid Hofferson.

He fidgeted with his napkin, lifting his eyes to look at her, sitting across the table. Around them, the little diner was quiet and almost empty, and outside the sun was bright and the sky was brilliantly blue.

It had been months since Drago had sent the Red Death, and there hadn't been a single attack since then. It had been months since they had accidentally revealed their identities to each other, and yet he still wasn't sure how to act around her. Judging by her expression, she was thinking much the same.

"So," he tried, but he still couldn't think of anything to say. He stirred his milkshake awkwardly, his face slightly red.

"So," she echoed with amusement.

He gave a shy smile, scratching the back of his neck.

He was saved from the awkward silence by a loud crash from outside. They both jumped, and Hiccup turned to peer out the window. He just caught sight of a figure sprinting along the sidewalk – a figure clad in scaly armor and wielding a staff. It turned, looking behind it, and Hiccup caught sight of its eyes.

Slit, bright yellow eyes.

Astrid had seen it too – she leapt to her feet at the same time Hiccup did. He threw a twenty onto the table next to their half-finished milkshakes, more than enough to cover the cost, and they hurried to the back of the small restaurant. Around the corner, they were out of sight of anyone else. Toothless flew out of Hiccup's backpack as Stormfly darted out of Astrid's jacket, and the two spirits hovered in the air before their chosen heroes.

"Stormfly," Astrid whispered, as Hiccup said, "Toothless," and then at the same time they commanded, "transform me!"

Both dragons complied, and in a mere moment and a swirl of light the transformation was complete.

The Night Fury and the Deadly Nadder stood looking at each other for just a moment. Romance, relationships, dating – there would be time to figure that all out later. But fighting and defending? Those were things they really knew how to do.

Night slid open the nearest window and turned back to Nadder. "Shall we, milady?" he said, gesturing towards the open window, and Nadder grinned.

"Let's take 'em down," she responded confidently.

Together, the Night Fury and the Deadly Nadder leapt through the window and hit the streets running, ready to defend their city and their home.

* * *

 **aaaand we're done! sorry this last bit is so short, but there wasn't much else to be written. thank you so much to everyone who read or reviewed - I got a lot more positive feedback on this than I was expecting! this is the end of this story, but I do have a sequel to this in the works, which will likely be up within the next few months**

 **thanks again for reading! see you next time!**


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